


Pinfold

by thegreennoodle



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Asexuality, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dark, Dependency, Gen, Horror, Insanity, Kidnapping, Manipulation, No Sexual Content, Psychological Trauma, Sensory Deprivation, Survival Instinct, Torture, Underage Smoking, human!Pennywise, shackles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreennoodle/pseuds/thegreennoodle
Summary: After Bill's little brother went missing, Bill swore to find the culprit and bring him to justice. Instead, he ends up in the clutches of a very dangerous man.





	1. Chapter 1

Bill knew that his little brother had been kidnapped.

George Denbrough had been missing for over three weeks now. The last time Bill saw him was when he was taking Georgie to a friend’s birthday party. It was raining that day, enough to make the roof leak and the basement flood. Sharon and Zack Denbrough had been too busy to drive their youngest son to his friend’s house, and so the task fell to big brother Bill.

Most twelve year old boys wouldn’t want anything to do with their eight year old brothers, but Bill loved Georgie with all his heart. His little brother was sweet and funny and always wanting to play. Georgie looked up to Bill and considered him his best friend. 

And so Bill dressed in his rain gear and made sure Georgie did the same before walking him a few blocks away from their house. Georgie used one hand to clutch Bill’s and the other to hold the small wrapped gift under his yellow raincoat. Bill had smiled and listened to the boy’s excited chatter. 

“...and Ted said that his parents were getting him a huuuge cake and they were decorating their whole house and they even hired a clown!”

Bill smiled at the excited kid. “That s-sounds great, G-G-Georgie.”

“You should stick around, Billy! I’ll make sure you get a piece,” Georgie promised with a hopeful smile.

“You k-know I’m going o-o-over to R-Richie’s.” Bill’s friend lived in the house behind their destination. As much as Bill liked hanging out with his little brother, being stuck in a room with ten hyperactive third graders wasn’t his idea of a fun time.

“Oh, okay.” Georgie looked down at his feet, obviously disappointed his best best friend wasn’t going to enjoy the party with him.

“Hey, you d-don’t n-need me hanging over y- y-your sho-o-oulder the whole t-time, a-a-anyway,” Bill placated. “You j-just focus on h-having fun, okay? I’ll p-pick you up in an hour or t-two.”

That was the last conversation they ever had.

Bill left Georgie at the front door to be let in by Ted’s mother. Bill smiled after his brother as he ran to join his friends. It had been raining all week and Georgie had been going stir-crazy in their house. Maybe now the kid would wear himself out.

He made the short trip over to Richie’s place. His dad was at work and Mrs. Tozier left them a few bottles of soda before going to read a book by the television. 

Bill spent the next few hours in Richie’s room. They read comics and listened to Guns N’ Roses records and had a burping contest. (Bill won.) They talked about their plans for Halloween and how fun it would be to scare Henry Bowers. They owed that greasy haired fucker some payback for tormenting them in and out of school.

Active playing eventually turned into more relaxed lounging. Richie practiced his voices while Bill tossed a baseball up and down.

Richie was using his Pancho Vanilla voice. “ _Seen-yor_ , deez mangoes are veeery ripe. I sell to you for quatro pesos-”

“Y-You need to w-work on it, R-Richie,” Bill interrupted. “Also, that’s k-kind of r-racist.”

Richie threw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Bill. We all gotta start somewhere.”

“But are you g-getting anywhere?”

“Eddie wouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Eddie would have told you to shut up an hour ago.”

“Screw you, Denbrough.”

Bill laughed and turned his head toward the window. What he saw made him freeze.

He had a clear view of Ted’s backyard. Georgie was standing outside with a...clown? Yes, Bill could tell from the puffy orange hair and the silver suit he wore. It looked older than the typical costumes most clowns wore. It was more fitted, and included balloon shorts and a ruffled collar. There were red pompoms on the front and red paint on his lips and cheeks. He was crouched down with his hands on his knees, talking to Georgie. Despite the rain, Georgie seemed happy to talk to the man.

Something was off about this. Why were they alone? The rain hadn’t stopped, and weren’t they bothered by the muddy ground and damp air? 

“What are you looking at?” Richie asked. He looked up from the joke book in his hand. “Is Mr. Bellwood walking around in his underwear again?”

“Shut up, Richie!” Bill whispered hastily.

The clown pulled out a red balloon and offered it to Georgie. The kid hesitated a moment before accepting it. The clown held out a gloved hand and said something. Georgie responded by taking the hand and let himself be led away from the house.

Bill was overcome by a sense of panic. Where was that clown taking his brother? “Georgie! No!” He banged on the window but the pair didn’t notice. They were soon out of sight.

Bill swore and turned quickly on his heel. He needed to get his little brother now.

“Bill! Wait up!” Richie started to follow him. He was a jokester, but he could be serious if the situation called for it. 

Bill didn’t have time to wait. Neglecting to put his rain gear back on, he sprinted down the stairs and out of the Tozier’s home. He ignored Mrs. Tozier’s cry of “Bill? Where are you going?”

His clothes quickly became soaked in the downpour but he didn’t pay it any mind. Bill could worry about getting dry when he knew Georgie was safe. 

Bill ran as fast as he could to the spot he just saw his brother. The yard was empty. No sign of his little brother or the strange clown anywhere in sight. 

Bill then turned to the front door. Surely someone knew what had happened!

Parents were already gathered in the living room to collect their rowdy children. Bill saw Ted’s mother speaking to another older woman.

Bill rushed over and grabbed her arm, earning an alarmed gasp directed at him. “I’m s-s-sorry. But where d-d-did G-Georgie go?”

“Billy? I thought he had already left with you!” Her expression grew as concerned as Bill’s must be. “Did one of your parents come and get him?

“No! I was supposed to b-bring him h-home!” Bill cried. “I s-saw him outs-side with a c-c-clown! He w-w-walked o-off w-w-with Georgie!”

“The clown left an hour ago,” she said, obviously trying to get a grasp on the situation. God forbid anything happen to that little Denbrough boy! “Look, Billy, why don’t you have a seat while I call your mom. I’m sure Georgie’s just gone to look for you.”

“I t-told you! The c-clown t-t-took him!” Bill protested. “We n-n-need to find them n-now!”

He turned and ran back into the rain, calling out Georgie’s name. 

 

All his searching did was earn him a nasty cold.

After his parents were finally called and the police were brought in and the neighborhood looked and looked, there was no sign of Georgie anywhere. It was like the kid vanished of the face of the earth. It was bad enough that Bill had to stay and bed and couldn’t help. It was worse that no one believed him about the clown.

Of course, the Derry police department had looked into it. Bill had manged to get his hands on a business card the creep left behind at Ted’s party.

_“Mr. Bob Gray: aka Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Available for parties and other special occasions! Call (207) 174-6913.”_

They took his claims against Mr. Gray seriously at first. A pair of cops went to the man’s apartment and asked to look around. According to them, Mr. Gray had been polite and welcoming. The man was more than happy to let them look around his small and spotlessly clean apartment for Georgie. Of course, they found nothing incriminating. Mr. Gray expressed his wishes that they would find the poor boy soon, naturally.

With no evidence against him, the police had to look elsewhere, and elsewhere lead to nowhere. They said the case was still open, but Bill knew they had already given up. There was no reason for an eight year old to stay away from a happy home unless he was dead.

Without Georgie, the Denbrough home was no longer happy.

His parents had become ghosts of themselves. They held out hope for the first few days. But they were adults and they knew the statistics of missing children returning home. After a week, they had to accept that their youngest son was never coming home. 

Bill didn’t understand what was wrong with them. How could they give up on Georgie so easily? He had told them about the clown taking him away from the party. Why wouldn’t they help him look for the bastard?

But no, not much happened at all. It was very...quiet. The house used to be filled with music and laughter and conversation. Now there was only silence. And crying. Lots and lots of crying. Both his parents cried the first week. Bill cried with them. It was the only activity they did as a family. Bill was left with medicine and canned soup while his parents joined the search party.

Now it was mostly his mother doing the crying. She would lock herself in her bedroom for hours and her sobs could be heard throughout the house. His dad was the breadwinner and had no choice but to go to work. He would stay gone from the time Bill went to school to the time he went to bed most days. They would stay in separate rooms and make little noise. Georgie’s door was left open, but no one ever went inside. Bill swore the whole place felt colder.

Meals were short and tense. No one wanted to speak to each other. No one knew what to say.

There was one night Bill couldn’t take it any longer. “D-do you w-w-want to k-know what ha-appened at school t-today?” His stutter had become worse recently.

They looked at him with vague interest. It was enough to encourage him to continue. “I g-got a-an A on m-my m-math test. And Richie a-almost s-started a f-f-food fight.”

His father nodded and his mother made a sound of acknowledgment. They turned back to their plates and picked at their food.

Bill felt his heart break a little every time this happened. Couldn’t they see that he was suffering, too? They still had one son who needed love and reassurance that everything would be okay.

Bill felt so guilty when he had thoughts like that. Georgie was still missing. Georgie could be _dead_. Bill had no right to complain about not getting enough attention while his brother was gone. His friends tried to be supportive and wanted to cheer him up, but they had never gone through anything like this. They just didn’t _understand._

Truthfully, Bill blamed himself for this, and he feared that his parents were as well. Bill was supposed to be watching Georgie that day. Sure, he thought nothing bad could happen at a supervised birthday party. But he could have stayed like Georgie asked. Bill didn’t have to go to Richie’s place. He could have sat on the couch and watched Georgie play and eat cake. 

What’s more, he just stood and watched as his brother was kidnapped! Bill knew something was wrong as soon as he laid eyes on the clown talking to Georgie. He should have rushed out then, not waited until it was too late. He could have prevented this.

Bill was the big brother, the one who was supposed to guide and protect. He failed in that. He failed himself, his parents, and especially Georgie.

He cried himself to sleep most nights.

 

If no one else would do this, than Bill was going to hunt down the clown himself.

Finding Bob Gray’s address wasn’t hard. A quick look in the phone book gave the name of the apartment complex the man lived in. Bill told his mom he was going to hang out with Richie and Stan before he left the house. She didn’t seem to even hear him. The sad woman merely continued to look at the stuffed turtle in her hands.

Bill left his house armed with a backpack filled with a disposable camera, a flashlight, and a notebook and pen. All Bill knew about Gray was that he was dangerous and he had taken Georgie. Bill wanted to find the man and watch him for anything incriminating. Despite what the police said, there had to be something against him.

The sky was overcast again. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, but Bill couldn’t wait around any longer. He could handle another cold.

The slightly run down building was on the other side of town. It was small, with only two floors and peeling gray paint. Even riding Silver, it took Bill a long while to get there. His nerves almost got the better of him as he passed into unfamiliar territory. Bill was always with his friends if whenever he ventured into the Barrens or a new area. If things went south, there would be no one to protect him.

He was tired and kind of sweaty by the time he braked near the parking lot. He planned his next move as he caught his breath. 

Should he go inside and ask for Gray’s room number? What if the receptionist asked why he was here? What if they mentioned it to their tenant later on? Bill read enough detective novels to know that tipping the killer off was the worst thing to do. The other option was to stake out the place from the outside. But it could take hours for his target to come out. One of his neighbors could spot Bill and complain about the weird kid staring into windows to the police. Gray might have gone out of town for all Bill knew. But this was for Georgie, and Bill would do whatever it took. He wheeled Silver over to a more secluded spot by the bushes and prepared to sit for a long while.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to wait long.

About fifteen minutes after Bill arrived, someone opened their door and stepped out. Bill was able to get a decent look at him. The man was very tall. His white overcoat looked small with the long, gray trouser covered legs beneath it. The man was definitely an adult but he couldn’t be any older than thirty. Surprisingly plump cheeks stood out on the otherwise angular face. His head was covered with combed down bright red hair that stood out against his pale face. The man whispered a jovial tune as he made his way down the staircase and went to a small yellow car.

Even without the pancake face and costume, Bill would know this man anywhere. This had to be Bob Gray! 

Rage bubbled inside of him as he watched his brother’s kidnapper start his vehicle. What should he do now? Breaking into the man’s apartment would likely get him in trouble. Besides, the police already searched and found nothing there.

When Gray pulled out of his parking space and started toward the road, Bill followed. He tried to keep a distance. There weren’t many people out today. Surely anyone would notice some strange kid following them around on a bike. He stayed close enough to just have Gray within sight.

Some time later, the car turned onto Neibolt Street. Bill had come this way a few times as a shortcut or to play on the train tracks. Not many people actually lived here since the noise the passing freighters made was a nuisance. 

Oh, and _of course_ Gray went and parked in front of the creepy house. The house numbered twenty-nine was notorious throughout Derry for its creepiness. The dilapidated Victorian had fallen to ruin over the years. The outer wood was rotting and all of the windows were covered. Half were boarded up. Vines grew down the sides. The grass permanently stayed dried and dead. Sunflowers popped up throughout the yard and there were a few dried up rose bushes by the porch. Everyone always picked up the pace when walking by the rumored haunted house. There was a petition to have it torn down when Bill was a toddler, but apparently it was still owned by some old timer.

Bill left Silver propped against a tree and inched closer. Maybe this would be his chance to get some info. What business could anyone have here?

Gray left his car and approached the front door. Bill got close enough that he would be seen if he wasn’t careful.

Gray was still whispering that annoying tune as he pulled out a key and unlocked the front door. Weird. Bill could have sworn that used to be boarded up. 

He was planning on staying still a bit longer to figure out the best way to keep spying until something changed his mind. As Gray stepped inside the house, Bill heard a scream come from within. The door shut and all noise disappeared.

The sound made Bill’s heart leap into his throat. That was all the proof he needed that Gray was up to no good. Who was that? Was the man hurting someone in there? Was it some poor defenseless kid? _Oh God, was it Georgie?_

All planning and sense went out the window. The thought of his little brother being hurt in that terrible house drove Bill into a frenzy. He sprinted into the dead yard and crouched down by the porch. One of the basement windows was uncovered. Bill peered inside and tried to make out anything in the darkness. No movement, no sound. To his amazement, the window was unlocked. It creaked loudly as Bill eased it open. 

He hesitated. He was about to go alone into the creepy Neibolt House. Who knew what fucked up shit might be in there. But Georgie might be in there. If not him, then somebody who could use Bill’s help was. 

After some squirming, Bill managed to squeeze his way through the window. He hung on the ledge with his fingertips for a moment before letting himself drop to the floor. The impact sent bright sparks of pain up his legs.

He had to pause and wait for it to fade. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. There wasn’t much down here. There was a rusty washing machine and water heater. There was something large in the center of the room. Was it a...well? Bill shook his head and made a beeline for the stairs. He wasn’t here to sight-see.

The door leading out wouldn’t open the first time Bill tried it. He panicked for a moment. Was it locked? Did Bill just trap himself down here?

The thought of being stuck in a dark basement until Gray inevitably found him made Bill pull hard of the knob. It finally opened with a loud _pop_. Bill almost fell back down the stairs from the sudden movement. He managed to stay on his feet but couldn’t hold back a cry.

He quickly shut his mouth and berated himself. He didn’t want Gray to know he was here!

Bill waited a few long moments before venturing further into the house. The interior looked like the set of a horror movie. Covered up furniture, cobwebs and dirt on every surface, creepy old antiques – the whole nine yards. It was like this place was designed to scare people. Still, he pressed on. He had come too far to chicken out now. What did he have to go back to besides that cold house with cold parents?

Bill wasn’t truly scared until he reached the kitchen. His eyes went over the worn appliances and dusty counter tops before zeroing in on the large puddle of blood on the floor. He gasped and stepped back. Whose blood was that and why was it here? It was still dark red and liquid. Fresh.

A large hand clamped down on Bill’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Little Friend,” a smooth, companionable voice said from behind him.

A rag was placed over his mouth and nose and then Bill knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your seat belts, everyone. It's going to be intense from here on out.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill regained consciousness slowly. Grogginess clung to him like a second skin, forcing him to stay in a half-awake state for God-only-knew how long. He wanted to just keep dozing but there was some part of him that wanted to wake up desperately. 

Yes, he had to wake up. There was something _wrong_. Something was very, very -

With a groan, Bill manged to open his heavy eyelids. His eyes were dry and stung, which complimented his searing headache nicely. Ugh, and he was so _thirsty_ , too! It took some effort to put his thoughts together. 

It took a few moments for Bill to realize he didn’t know where he was. After his vision focused he could finally make out the room he was in. The walls were covered with aged green wallpaper. Cobwebs hung in the corner and there was dust on the wooden floor.

The veil finally lifted completely and Bill started to panic. He remembered exactly how he got here. Oh God, Gray had found him. Bill had to still be in the Neibolt house. He had to get out of here!

His attempt to stand and run was quickly stopped. Something was holding him down, and he finally noticed the jangling sound that came when he moved. Bill looked down at his hands and let out a small cry of dismay. 

His wrists were shackled together. Silver manacles were closed tightly over each arm and a short chain held them together. His stomach dropped and he glanced down. A matching shackle was locked around his ankle. The chain around it was long and the other end was attached to a metal bolt in the middle of the floor.

Bill took a few deep breaths. Okay, this was bad. This was very, very bad. He let himself be caught and now he was a prisoner. What was Gray going to do with him now?

His fear turned into adrenaline. All he could think was _escape, escape, escape! Escape before the bad man gets you like he got Georgie!_

He grabbed the chain around his ankle and started to pull on it with all his might. Bill was tall for his age but he hadn’t developed any real muscle yet. Hell, he had even lost weight these past few weeks. Grieving over a lost child did not result in hearty meals being cooked every night.

It didn’t take long for Bill’s hands to chafe and his arms to strain. He had to keep going. His life depended on getting out of here. 

He finally stopped when his palms became too sensitive to hold the chain. Bill let out a sob and sank to the floor. Great, now he was exhausted and in pain in addition to being trapped.

Bill curled his knees to his chest and rested his head on top of them. He needed to calm down, he needed to _think_. There had to be some way out of this!

He wiped his tears away and looked around the room some more. Only a few feet to his right was a bathroom. The door was bolted to the wall. It didn’t look completely disgusting inside, but it could definitely use some cleaning. From where he was sitting, Bill could make out a yellowing claw foot tub against the wall and a sink pressed in the corner by the door.

The one window was covered by a think curtain. Bill had no doubt it was boarded up on the outside. Across the room was the door leading out into the hallway. It was bolted open as well. There would be no way to hide in this room.

There was enough light in here for it to still be daytime. Bill couldn’t have been out for more than a few hours. Did his parents notice his absence yet? Would they even care?

Bill couldn’t think like that. No, he wouldn’t end up like Georgie. Someone would come to help him. Gray wouldn’t get away with killing the other Denbrough brother.

The thought sounded childish even to him.

 

Bill spent a lot of time just sitting. He was only able to walk around for short periods. The chain was heavy to drag around. The shackle dug in if Bill tried to strain against it. It was long enough to get him within three feet of the door. So close and yet so far away. He stared at the peeling wallpaper in the hallway before spitting in its direction.

He eventually had to venture into the bathroom. The cracked blue tile clashed horribly with the stained teal wallpaper. Bill didn’t want to touch anything in here. His cuffed hands made it difficult to maneuver his zipper. He lifted the toilet lid with his foot to avoid more possible germs. (He couldn’t help but think Eddie would have a panic attack in here.) The toilet worked, at least. The sink ran brown water for a full minute before it started to come out clean. Bill rinsed his hands off and wiped them the best he could on his pants. After some consideration, he bent down and drank some of it. The water probably couldn’t be trusted but he was desperate for a drink. He walked back to the spot he woke up in and plopped down. 

His clothes were starting to chafe and he wished he had something more comfortable to wear. Jeans and sneakers weren’t any fun if you were sitting in a damp and draft room all day. Then again, he wouldn’t want to face Gray wearing his pajamas. Dust and sweat clung to him and Bill was almost tempted to see if the bath tub still worked. Almost.

At some point, he calmed down enough to feel lonely. It wasn’t a welcome change from the constant fear. It wasn’t like he wanted his friends to be stuck here with him. That’s the one thing Bill was grateful for. At least he didn’t drag them into this.

“He thrusts h-his fists a-against the p-po-post,” he murmured, “and still insist h-he s-sees the ghosts.” It was an old English tongue twister his mother taught him before things got bad. She said it might help with his stutter. The memory filled him with a brief warmth. 

Bill did wish that he told someone where he was going, though. Sure, they would have tried to talk him out of this or wanted to come with him, bitching the whole time. Even while his own parents were cold to him, Bill could always count on Stan, Richie, and Eddie.

“H-He t-thrust his f-f-fist ag-gainst the post...”

Richie tried to help Bill out, he really did. Georgie was taken right across from the Toziers house. Bill could tell Richie felt responsible for how things happened. 

_“You d-didn’t d-do anything, R-R-Richie,” Bill had told him one day at lunch. Bill was eating at Richie's house again, as his parents were too distracted to buy groceries. Bill didn't blame them. Meals just weren't the same without Georgie._

_Richie looked up from where he was staring forlornly at his plate. He knew what Bill was talking about. “You know...it isn’t your fault, either, Big Bill.”_

_Bill shook his head. “No. I should h-have -”_

_“Billy, you had no way of knowing a motherfucking clown would walk off with Georgie!” His coulrophobic friend shuddered a little. “We were both in the same place. We both could have done something.”_

_Bill didn’t agree with that, but he still appreciated the sentiment. “It’s still not your fault.”_

“...a-a-and still i-insists he sees the g-g-ghosts.”

Out of his group of friends, Bill was the only one with a sibling. Richie had been the closest to Georgie. Eddie and Stan had never experienced a loss like his, or been around someone with a missing family member. Bill knew he hadn’t exactly been a ray of sunshine recently. But they never abandoned Bill. He would never just be the kid with the missing brother like he was to everyone else now. They made him feel safe and secure when his family wouldn’t.

“He thrusts his f-fist against the p-post and st-till ins-s-sist h-he sees t-he g-ghosts.”

Bill didn’t have their love and reassurance right now. But he could close his eyes and think of them and spit out a mantra that resembled his mother’s love.

“H-He thrusts his fist against the p-posts a-a-and still insists h-h-he suh-sees the guh-ghosts. He th-thrusts his f-fists against the post and s-s-s-still in-insists he sees t-the ghosts...”

 

It was around sunset when the screaming began. 

Bill had been close to dozing off. The sound made him scramble quickly to his feet. What was going on? He looked frantically around the room before he realized the noise was coming from downstairs. He swallowed heavily. Gray must be hurting someone down there.

Bill wished that he could go help whoever it was being hurt. He wished to was as big and strong as Batman or Superman. Then, he could snap this chain right off and then go give Gray the what for. But all the wishing in the world wouldn’t change anything. Bill was still just a helpless twelve year, not a hero.

The screaming soon unnerved him and he sank down to the floor and curled up. Bill wanted to cover his ears but he felt he owed it to Gray’s victim to hear their final cries for help. It was someone young, maybe around his age. Probably female. While she bleated like a lamb, an eerie high-pitched laughter accompanied the noise. The sound made Bill shiver. Gray was obviously enjoying doing whatever vile thing he was up to. It was the laugh of a mad man.

Bill’s fear grew. He was being held hostage by someone who didn’t seem to feel empathy or compassion. Why was Bill still alive? Was he being saved for later? It wasn’t like Gray tried to make him comfortable here.

As terrible as the screams were to listen to, it was even worse when they stopped. That could only mean one thing. Oh, but the laughter remained. That terrible cackle echoed through the whole house. There were now bangs and shuffling noises. It was like a demented kid playing down there.

It was completely dark when the house fell silent again. Little moonlight made it into the room. It made Bill feel a little better. At least he wasn’t completely blind in here.

The silence wasn’t comforting. Did Gray leave for the night? Was he coming back with some other victim? Bill could do nothing but sit and wait.

He cried out when a light was turn on. It was dim but allowed him to see the room once again.

The clown stood in the doorway. He looked much the same as when Bill last saw him. Outdated silver outfit, red and white face paint, poofy orange hair. Oh, but seeing him up close was nothing short of terrifying. His ruffled collar and the front of his costume were covered in fresh blood. The smell wafted over to Bill and he almost gagged on it. 

The clown’s blue eyes shown with sadistic glee as they zeroed in on Bill. His horrid grin revealed two buck teeth that resembled a rat’s. 

If Bill didn’t know he was in deep shit before, he sure did now.

The clown sauntered right up to him, as if trying to put on a show. Gloved hands reached down and clutched the sides of Bill’s face. “Well, well! Did you finally wake up, Little Friend?” His voice was an odd mixture of both squeaky and gruff. Definitely not what a grown man should sound like.

Bill squirmed away and glared up at his captor. No way he was going to show this son of a bitch any fear. 

More giggling. “What? Got nothing to say to ol’ Pennywise?” He grabbed the chain joining Bill’s hands and pulled the boy closer. “Well, I sure have some things to say to you, young mister! Say, didn’t mommy and daddy ever teach you it isn’t nice to follow people around, hmm?”

Bill’s eyes widened. So Gray did know he was being followed.

The man tapped Bill’s nose. “At first I thought you were trying to get my attention for a job. Buuuut you just looked so _angry_! I knew it had to be something else. I didn’t really think you’d break into my house but you just waltzed in like you owned the place! I was almost _impressed_.” He gave Bill a little shake. “So what brings you here, boy? Did you come to see what’s in the haunted house? Did someone dare you to come say hi the clown?”

Bill wasn’t going to let this creep intimidate him. Even if he died tonight, it would be with a brave face. “N-No, I came to hunt you down.”

The clown’s eyes widened and his grin turned mocking. “Hunt me down? Whatever did I do to you, little boy?”

All the rage towards this man came pouring out of Bill. How dare he play innocent? “You took my brother, you fucker!” 

Bill lashed out as best he could. He managed to get a headbutt and a few hits to the clown’s chest before the man let out an annoyed huff and pushed Bill down. Gray crouched over him with his hands on his knees. Odd how such a childish display could be so unnerving.

“Ooh, your brother? Who was he?”

Bill kept his mouth shut. The creepy fuck didn’t deserve to hear his little brother’s name.

Gray guessed anyway. “Let’s see, how many brothers have I taken recently?” He jokingly tapped his chin in thought before smiling wide and raising a finger in the air. “Hmm, don’t tell me it was little _Georgie_?”

Bill’s expression gave him away. Gray cackled and clapped his hands. “Ah, I knew it! What a sweet and naive little boy. Soooo that must make you Billy! Georgie said you were his best best friend. He also liked balloons. Do you want a balloon, too, Billy?””

“W-w-where is he?” Bill demanded with a shaky voice. “What did you d-do to h-him?”

“Don’t worry about him! He’s floating!” was all the clown replied with.

Bill knew he was missing something. “W-what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Gray teased. He thrummed his fingers against Bill’s chest. “You’re just skin and bones, aren’t you Billy-boy? Say, how did you manage to find me?”

“I-I’m not t-telling you,” Bill spat.

“Oh? Is it because you don’t want to talk to a stranger? Well, let me properly introduce myself. I’m Pennywise the _Dancing_ Clown.” He shook his neck, causing the little red bells on his outfit to jingle. “Pennywise, yes, meet Billy. Billy, meet Pennywise. There, now we aren’t strangers, are we?”

“I know w-who the f-fuck you are,” Bill replied. “Your name is Bob Gray. I know where y-you l-live, too.”

Okay, judging by how Gray’s expression darkened, that wasn’t the best thing to say. The clown grabbed a fistful of Bill’s auburn hair and pulled his head back. He smiled as Bill cried out in pain. “Oh, seems like my new little buddy is a detective! Was that your plan, Billy? Watch me to see what evil things I do in the dark? I might just show you one day.”

Bill didn’t intend to stick around to see it. His anger and frustration only fueled him. “I don’t kn-know what you did to G-Georgie, b-b-but I’m gonna find o-out.”

“Yes, I think you will,” Gray promised. “But not yet. You’re not ready.”

“R-Ready for what?” Bill challenged.

“To float!” the man exclaimed, excited as a kid at the circus. He finally stood and headed toward the door. “I hope you’re nice and comfy here, Little Buddy, because you’re not leaving for a veeery long time! Never, in fact!”

The light went out, and Bill was left with nothing but darkness and the echo of insane laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of sets the tone for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

Bill didn’t think he would be able to sleep after the encounter with Gray, but he opened his eyes to daylight. He sat up quickly. How long had he been asleep this time?

A quick scan of the area revealed Bill was alone. For now, at least. Great, he would have nothing to do but wait for the fucker to come back to torment him.

The shackles around his wrists were gone. The skin were they had been was chafed and red. His ankle, however, was still chained tightly.

A flash of red caught his eye. He turned his head to see a red balloon floating next to him. The words “I Love Derry” were printed on the side. _Love_ was symbolized with a heart. Where the hell did that come from?

What if the damned clown was still here, just waiting for Bill to fall into whatever trap he was planning? He took in his surroundings again. No, there was no way anyone else could be hiding in here. Too much light for Gray to be creeping in the shadows.

He turned to the balloon again. He noticed a white paper card was attached to the end of the string. A piece of tape secured it to the ground. Bill reached over and gently grasped it. There was a note written on the card.

_Little Buddy,_

_I hope you slept well! I know being away from home can be sooo scary for kiddos like you. So you don’t get bored all alone in that house, I thought of some chores for you. There are some cleaning supplies in the bathroom. I want your room to be spotless by the time I come back. If it is, I’ll give you a reward! If not, then you’ll be sorry!_

_Your friend, Pennywise_

Gray’s handwriting was terrible; clumsy scribbles that resembled a young child’s. There were balloons with smiley faces drawn onto the margins of the card.

Bill shuddered when he realized that Gray was in the room with him while he was asleep. The man could have done anything to him. He still didn’t know what happened downstairs last night, but it couldn’t have been any good. Bill quickly looked over himself. No new harm was done. 

Bill felt a bit indignant about his kidnapper wanting him to fucking clean the room he was trapped in. Way to add insult to injury. Bill wasn’t a fucking maid. Gray could take his note and shove it up his pasty ass.

He curled back up on the floor and tried to doze. His clothes were already covered with sweat and dust. What could a little more hurt? Bill wondered if he would die in this outfit. The jeans were already faded and the red plaid shirt had been a Christmas gift. A warmer ensemble for a rainy day, despite the humidity. Odd how his prison was so much warmer than his home.

Bill’s mind refused to let him nap. Worry ate away at him every time he closed his eyes. What if Gray came back while Bill was like this? The note promised punishment if Bill hadn’t done any cleaning. Who knew what the psycho would do to the defenseless boy?

What about his family? Surely his parents noticed he was missing by now! Bill hadn’t told either his mom or dad that he was staying the night at a friend’s house. Well, he wasn’t too sure his mom even heard him. Dad hadn’t been around. 

The possibility that they actually hadn’t noticed his absence yet terrified Bill. What if Dad came home and went straight to grab a beer before locking himself in the den? Zach Denbrough often ignored his remaining son these days. He didn’t know how to comfort his wife and kept his distance from her, too. It was very possible that he hadn’t been to check on Bill once. It was doubtful Mom bothered to tell him anything.

Okay, but what about his friends? Bill was with them everyday. They hadn’t seen Bill for about two days now. They all knew how bad things were at the Denbrough home. Surely they’ve realized something was wrong.

The hope that Richie, Stan, and Eddie were out looking for Bill calmed him down some. It wasn’t likely that they would come to the Neibolt house but at least they would get the word out.

Much like yesterday, Bill grew bored of just waiting around. He was filled with nervous energy from the constant threat of danger. Gray could come back any moment and end his short life. The extra adrenaline made him restless and shaky. 

The fear of what Gray would do to Bill if he didn’t clean anything kept growing. He had quickly learned that the man was crazy enough to be capable of anything. Lord knew he didn’t want to do anything his captor instructed but Bill’s self-preservation instinct was kicking in overtime. He hated how dirty his small cage was. Was it really so bad to swallow his pride and live another day? (Not that cleaning guaranteed his safety, Bill knew.)

He finally stood on trembling legs and made his way to the bathroom. A mop and broom were propped up against the tub. A metal bucket full of different bottles of cleaning chemicals and scrubbing brushes was placed next to them.

At least Gray wasn’t making him to this with a toothbrush.

Bill started with his room. He grabbed the broom and took his time in sweeping the dirty floor. He started with the area where he slept and pushed the dust to the other side of the room. The chain around his ankle often dragged through the mess, causing Bill to have to sweep the same spot many times. Bill continued until all the dust was there and then swept it into a pile in the corner. There wasn’t a dustpan or a garbage can to dispose of it with. 

Bill then went around the ceiling corners and tried to knock away the cobwebs. It made a mess of the broom end but he mostly succeeded. A large black spider emerged from a crack in the wall when Bill got to the last one, and so he left that area alone. He wasn’t prepared to fight that thing. The mere thought of it jumping down and landing on his face had Bill scurrying back to the bathroom.

He grabbed the yellow bottle of Brite and the mop. This was a chore his mother often did, but she always made it look easy. He squirted the liquid all over the floor and dragged the mop through it. 

When he was done, the room still looked old and run down, but presentable. It no longer made his skin crawl just to look at it, anyway.

The bathroom was going to be harder. There were so many more layers of filth in there. Bill wasn’t sure where to even start.

The floor seemed like the best option. He poured out a little bite of Brite at a time and scrubbed the tile in little circles with a Brillo pad. It took some time for the caked on filth to come up. Bill’s arms and shoulders were aching by the time he finished scrubbing. The floor wasn’t entirely clean but it was still much better then before.

Bill soaked the sink and bathtub with cleaning spray before going to sit down. He needed a rest after all that work.

He was relaxed enough now to fall asleep again. The light was dimmer when he woke again. It must be getting toward the evening hours now. Still no sign of Gray.

Bill’s stomach growled loudly. The constant worry and fear had put a damper on his appetite yesterday, but now it was back in full force. He wished he had brought a snack with him. Even a pack of saltine crackers sounded good right now. 

Despite the ache in his limbs, Bill decided to get back to work. He needed a distraction from his empty belly.

It took some elbow grease for the grime to come off the sink. The old white marble was nearly good as new by the time Bill was done. The bathtub took at least an hour to scrub clean. Bill wanted it to be spotless. He might live long enough to be able to use it. As his cage got cleaner, Bill got dirtier. God, he wanted a shower.

Satisfied with his work, Bill went to lay down again. He could only keep waiting and hope Gray wasn’t a perfectionist.

 

Like yesterday, it was late evening when Gray returned.

The man didn’t wear the clown costume today. His outfit was casual: a white shirt and gray sports jacket with black jeans, completed with red and white sneakers. He looked even younger up close. He couldn’t be further than his mid-twenties. (It made Bill sick to think someone so young could be so messed up.) There was a black duffle bag dangling from his shoulder and he held a large brown paper bag in his left hand.

His eyes went straight to Bill. “How’s my favorite little buddy doing today?” His voice sounded different now. It was smoother and far more normal.

Bill grimaced. He had already grown to hate that nickname.

“Why the long face, B-B-B-Billy?” his captor asked. He sat down cross-legged in front of the boy.

Bill’s temper quickly rose. All the negative feelings he’d experienced the past few days were coming back full-force. The bastard that put him in this situation was right in front of him, and now he was mocking Bill!

Bill let out a cry and lunged at his captor. Gray merely laughed and grasped Bill’s sore wrists before they reached his face. “Now, now, Billy. What’d you have to go and do that for?”

Gray gave his irritated skin a punishing squeeze before pushed Bill away from him. In what seemed only a few seconds, Gray reached into his bag and pulled out the arm shackles. It was easy to lock them over Bill’s wrists again. Before Bill could get away, Gray seized his forearm, slapped the metal on, and turned a small key in the locks. The key was tossed back in the duffel bag.

Bill tried in vain to pull his bound arms apart while Gray picked up the paper bag.

“I’m really glad you decided to listen to me, Billy! Now I can give you your reward!” Gray reached one large hand into the bag and retrieved a plate covered in aluminum foil. He unwrapped it to reveal a sliced steak. It looked _delicious_. The outside was a perfectly seared brown. The inside was a lovely shade of pink with just a hint of red in the center. Bill usually liked his steak cooked at least medium, but the pink was very appetizing. The spicy and meaty smell made his mouth water. 

“Oh, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Gray cooed. He selected a piece of meat and held it to Bill’s mouth. “Say ahhhhhh!”

Bill was too hungry to fight. He opened his mouth and eagerly accepted the food. He held back a pleased moan at the taste. It was better than even the steak house his family had gone to on special occasions. The taste of beef was strong, and there was a slight sweetness to it. It melted like butter in his mouth.

His captor let out one of his obnoxious giggles. “Mmm, it’s tasty, isn’t it?”

Bill swallowed and gathered the nerve to look at the man. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed anything Gray gave to him. “A-Anything would b-be good after y-y-you practic-tic-ally starved me.”

“I’m only feeding you now because of this.” Gray patted the cleaned floor. “You’d be in a loooot of pain right now if you hadn’t done what I told you.”

He fed Bill another mouthful. While the boy chewed happily, Gray reached into the bag again, pulling out a two-pack of cookies and a bottle of Coke. He gave Bill a drink between bites of meat. Bill was so hungry that it all tasted wonderful. He even gobbled down the stale cookies with relish.

All the while, Gray was giving him a disturbingly amused look. Bill again got the feeling he was missing out on a joke. He still had no clue what “floating” was. 

Bill could think clearly again once his stomach was full. It was embarrassing to let himself be hand fed like that. Like he was some damn _pet_. 

To his disgust, Gray lifted the plate to his face and licked off all the remaining juices. He laughed at Billy’s reaction and licked his lips. “Bobby’s a good cook, isn’t he, Little Buddy?”

Billy turned his head away. The only comfort of having Gray here was that Bill knew what he was up to. 

Gray wasn’t happy with his silence. He grabbed the front of Billy’s shirt and tugged the kid forward. Bill wasn’t prepared for it. He lost balance and his upper half fell right onto Gray’s legs. The man laughed and pulled Bill so he was sitting upright on his lap.

This was the last position Bill wanted to be in. “L-let me go, you p-pervert!”

Gray smirked. He was obviously enjoying Bill’s discomfort. “I’m many things, Billy, but a pervert isn’t one of them.” He bounced one leg, continuing to mock his captive.

“What do you think about while you’re all alone here, Billy?” Gray asked.

“I think a-about how I’m going t-to kick your ass!” Bill snapped. He squirmed to get out of the man’s grasp, and surprisingly, Gray let him.

“Is that all?” Gray probed. “You don’t think about how you’re probably going to die here? That nobody is ever going to find your body? That everyone is going to forget about you after a couple of months?”

Bill’s mouth dried. “N-n-n-no.” Of course he lied. He couldn’t admit any fear to this fucker.

Gray wagged a finger at him. “Don’t lie to me, Little Buddy! I can smell the fear on you. I can feel it from down the street!”

“I’m not afraid of you!” Bill cried. Outrage made him bold. “I’m not afraid of some loser who works as a goddamn clown! I have people who care about me! They are going to find me! And you’re going to rot in jail!”

Gray was scowling at him now, all humor gone. He snarled and shot out an arm to grab Bill by the throat. “You sure about that, Billy-boy? I’ve been in this town long enough to know nobody cares about little shits like you. Like _Georgie_.” As he spoke, his voice went higher in pitch until it sounded like the clown.

Bill glared back. “I’m not afraid of you,” he whispered.

Gray leaned in so they were face to face. “You will be.”

 

The next few days passed the same way. Bill would be alone all day. Gray left no more notes or list of chores, leaving him to be bored and restless.

Bill had nothing to distract him from his thoughts. All he had to do was keep cleaning his already tidy room. (He did manage to get several more layers of grime out of the bathroom, though.) He resorted to using the cleaning supplies as toys. He was desperate for stimulation. It was like he was a young kid again – a broom could be a sword and a bucket could be an astronaut’s helmet. At least no one was around to see it.

Gray arrived every evening to feed him. Bill didn’t have it in himself to deny his only daily meal. He needed to keep his strength up. It was always red meat and some kind of sweet. Bill would never admit it, but he looked forward to Gray’s cooking. He wondered if the man ever worked in a restaurant. His captor would stay and taunt him for some time after that. He kept trying to scare Bill, but Bill refused to give him the satisfaction. 

Bill tried to keep positive. He dreamed about what he would do when he finally escaped. He and Richie would spend hours in the arcade. He would go bird watching with Stan. He would get Eddie to explain what a staph infection even was. He would finally talk to Beverly Marsh. He would try harder to make his parents happy again. He would send mocking letters to whatever prison Bob Gray ended up in. He would watch his favorite movies on repeat and ride Silver all across Maine.

He was caught by surprise when Gray came to visit him in the middle of the day.

The clown burst into the room like an excited kid. Bill had been counting the cracks in the ceiling and quickly sat up. There was no blood on the costume this time. A small relief.

Gray rushed over and squatted down in front of Bill. “Look what I found, Little Buddy!”

He held a paper in front of Bill’s face. To the boy’s mixed horror and joy, it was a missing poster. _His_ missing poster. They used his most recent school photo. Underneath was his age and physical description. It was an unpleasant thing to see. But that meant people knew he was missing. Someone had to be looking for him!

Gray laughed and laughed. “Don’t look so hopeful, Little Buddy! They just put these up _today_.”

Bill was confused. So what? At least the word was finally out.

The clown pinched Bill’s cheek. “Don’t you get it, Billy? You’ve been here for, what, five days now? They’re just now reporting you missing! Your family didn’t even care that you were gone. These were put up by the police. Your own folks don’t care that you’re gone and they don’t care if you ever come back! Oh, at least Pennywise is here for you!”

The words got to Bill. No one bothered to report him missing until he was gone for nearly a week? Not even his friends? Did his parents truly stop loving him? Was this his punishment for letting Georgie be taken? To be left to the mercy of a lunatic? He couldn’t hold back a sob.

Gray wiped away a tear. “ _There’s_ the fear,” he said happily.


	4. Chapter 4

After a week of being trapped in the Neibolt house, Bill finally found a way out.

Gray was careless one night. He had already finished feeding Bill dinner, and was entertaining himself by pulling on the boy’s cheeks to force him to smile. Bill didn’t have much other choice than to let it happen. He’d already learned that his captor would leave sooner if Bill was boring him.

There was a noise downstairs. It was almost comical how fast Gray’s expression changed. He went from grinning widely at Bill to swerving his head toward the door, looking like a predator whose territory was threatened. 

He pushed Bill away. “Wait here!” he snapped before he rushed out of the room. As if Bill could go anywhere.

It didn’t take Bill long to realize he had an opportunity. Gray was gone and he left his duffle bag here. His captor could be back at any moment so Bill moved fast. As a reward for not trying to scratch Gray’s eyes out, the man had undone his wrist shackles. He was grateful that he was able to use his hands freely. Bill unzipped the bag and rummaged through it for something useful. No weapons, surprisingly. There was the clown costume, neatly folded and in a plastic bag. Shoes, wig, make-up. 

He could hear Gray start to climb up the staircase. Bill needed to hurry.

Bill grinned as his fingers brushed across a small piece of metal. He pulled out the key to his shackles and placed it in his jeans pocket. He quickly closed the bag and scrambled back to the spot he was in when Gray left.

He panicked for a moment. What if Gray searched his bag before leaving? What if the key fell out of his pocket? Who knew what the deranged man would do to him then! But Bill wasn’t getting any safer here and he had to take risks if he was going to escape.

Gray returned to the room in a huff. “There was nothing down there. A draft must have blown something over. Probably one of those stupid little glass pigs.” He looked at Bill and grinned. “Why do you look so upset, Billy? Were you scared someone was going to try and take you from me?”

“N-No!” Bill sputtered. He wanted to jump for joy at the mere thought of that.

Gray walked over and ruffled Bill’s hair. He laughed when Bill squirmed away.

“Don’t worry, Little Buddy. We both know nobody is ever going to find you here!”

Bill was tempted to ask just how long Gray was planning to keep him prisoner. How fun could keeping some kid chained in your house be, even for someone like Gray? But Bill was afraid of the answer, and he worried that it might cause Gray to cause him harm sooner than later.

He held back a gasp when Gray picked up his bag. What if he could somehow tell the key was gone? 

Gray gave Bill a small bow before exiting the room. It had become his usual method to say goodbye.

He forgot to re-chain Bill’s wrists.

Bill held his breath for several long moments. He waited for the faint sounds of the front door closing and Gray’s car backing out into the empty street. He counted to five hundred before he let himself relax.

Bill had to live with the worry that Gray would find his missing possession and come back for it for the rest of the night, but he had hope for the first time since Georgie went missing.

 

Bright and early the next morning, Bill sprung into action.

He nearly cried in relief when he removed the chain from his ankle. He turned the small key in the lock on the shackle and the metal fell open instantly. Bill let it clatter to the floor. As expected, his skin was red and irritated. It hurt some to walk, but Bill could power through it.

He was finally free! Now all Bill had to do was get out of Neibolt and pray Gray didn’t come back early.

Moving slowly, he went to the door and poked out his head enough to see down either sides of the hallway. No sign of Gray or a trap. Bill wouldn’t be surprised to find a few bear traps and wire trips strung around.

It was hard to resist the urge to bolt down the stairs and burst through the door. Gray was unpredictable and could be waiting in the living room with a knife for all Bill knew. He would have to be cautious.

The second floor of the house matched the bottom: old, dusty, and dilapidated. It was hard to tell if the wallpaper was brown or a faded red. All along the wall, it was shredded and peeling off. It looked like a wild animal had been clawing at it. 

His heartbeat was loud in his ears as he reached the top of the stairway. The rails were covered with dust and cobwebs. Two flights connected the first and second floor. Bill shuddered as he imagined how Gray must have carried him up these.

Bill developed a pattern. One step down, and then pause to look around and listen. It wasn’t a quick process. It felt like an hour passed between each step. They creaked dangerously under his feet. Bill eventually made it to the bottom like this. Okay, he was halfway there. The exit was near and he couldn’t stop himself from rushing to it.

He froze when he saw the door. There was a bolt on the _inside_. A heavy padlock that would need a key. No one was getting out of here without Gray’s permission. The house truly was a cage.

Okay, Bill would have to leave the same way he came. He spun around and headed toward the steps to the basement. Of course the door was locked this time. Bill kicked it in frustration and rushed back up. He would need to find something to break it open.

All caution was gone as he rushed around the filthy rooms. Nothing but old junk and cobwebs. Either Gray didn’t have the time to clean or he liked living in a haunted house...Yeah, that sounded about right.

Bill caught a break when he reached the kitchen. To his surprise and joy, his backpack was laying on the floor. Bill hurried over and unzipped it. There was no doubt that Gray had rummaged through it but all of Bill’s things were still there. He pulled out his flashlight. No time to worry about the rest.

He searched through the cabinets and drawers for anything useful. After breathing in more dust and having a close encounter with a family of rats, he found a hammer under the sink. It would have to do.

Bill didn’t know what to do but hit the knob on the basement door with the hammer until it fell off. The impact of metal on metal made a loud noise that echoed through the house. Every blow made Bill wince. The noise might attract the wrong sort of attention. 

It only took a few good whacks to make the knob bend and then fall off. The door creaked open. Bill couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He was so close!

However, after he descended into the basement, his smile quickly turned into screams.

As he shined his flashlight around the room, all the things best hidden in the dark were revealed to him. Old and bloody clothes were strewn all over the floor. They were all kids’ clothes. They were accompanied by ratty and broken toys. Bill could identify a stuffed rabbit, a baseball glove, and a Barbie doll among the horrible mess.

Bill’s knees shook as he took in the scene. Good God, had he walked across all this when he snuck into the house? There had to be at least fifteen different sets of shirts and pants and dresses. Some of it looked older than the rest. Yes, the stuff closest to the crumbling well were definitely most recent. The blood stains were still red.

Bill could hear something dripping. It was plain morbid curiosity that made him turn the light toward the ceiling. He couldn’t stop a dismayed wail from escaping his mouth.

There were dangling hooks attached to the ceiling, and impaled on the hooks was meat. No, not just meat. _It was bits of people_. There was two legs right above Bill’s head. At least five arms were scattered around. There were many large chunks of skin and flesh, unidentifiable as any body part. The fresher pieces were still oozing blood. There was even the whole head of a young boy hanging near the well.

Bill had a sudden understanding of what Gray had been feeding him.

He doubled over and vomited. The taste of stomach acid mixed with the meat he’d ate last night ( _oh god it was people it was people it was people_ ) only made his stomach cramp harder. He could do nothing but stand there and retch until his stomach was empty of food and acid, and then he dry heaved. There were hot tears running down his face.

Gray was even more crazy and evil than Bill thought. All these people – all these kids! Just how long had the fucker been at this? How did the people of Derry not notice this shit?

_Georgie._

No. No no no no no no! Was this how his little brother ended up? Taken to some scary house by a friendly clown, only to be killed and cut up like an animal? To be _eaten_?

Bill sobbed. It looked like he was never going to bring Georgie home. And what about his parents? They were bad enough with their youngest son missing. What would they do when they found out how he died?

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but he eventually managed to regain some composure. He had to get the fuck out of here and expose Gray for the monster he was!

Bill carefully stepped around the mess he made on the floor and headed toward the window he crawled in. he swallowed hard as he walked over the ruined clothes. He sent a silent apology to their previous owners. One low hanging limb almost brushed the top of Bill’s head and he almost lost it again.

 _Gotta keep going_ , he thought. _Do it for Georgie._

It felt like a lifetime passed by the time he crossed the room. Okay, getting up to the window would be harder than climbing down through it. Bill came up a few inches short when he tried jumping. Damn it, now what? 

He shined the flashlight around once more, carefully avoiding aiming toward the ceiling. There was a small red wagon in the corner across from him. Why would Gray even – oh, Bill didn’t even want to know. He wheeled the rusty thing under the window, wincing as the tires creaked loudly. Well, the middle looked sturdy enough. Bill carefully climbed into it, bracing his hands against the wall to keep balance. This bought him a few more inches. If he tried hard, he could now jump high enough to reach the windowsill.

He focused hard on the metal ledge and bent his knees slightly -

There was a scream from within the house.

Bill froze. Oh, God. Oh, no. Gray brought a new victim into his hell house. He cringed when the frightened cries were followed by Gray’s manic clown laughter. Bill was close to escaping. Even if he couldn’t save the kid in there, he could still go for help!

He turned back to the window and realized something. He _knew_ that voice.

Every bit of bravery and protectiveness in Bill came out then. He hopped off the wagon and rushed across the room. He vaulted over the vomit puddle and landed on the stairs, pausing only to pick up the hammer he left there. Bill moved on pure adrenaline as he burst out from his hiding place and ran toward the source of the noise.

His heart stopped as he came upon his captor crouching over someone in the kitchen. It was Eddie! Bill’s second-oldest friend was backed up against an overturned table, cowering away from the clown. Gray had one hand around Eddie’s arm and the other held a sharp knife. Gray was laughing and mocking Eddie’s tears.

“Hey!” Bill called out. His fear and sorrow had turned to anger. How dare Gray try and take someone else from him!

Gray whipped around to face him. His eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed in anger.

“Bill! Oh, thank fuck!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“Yooooou’re not supposed to be out of your room,” Gray hissed. The white make-up on his forehead was cracked.

“Let my friend go, fucker!” Bill yelled. He wasn’t going to play any games now. He charged forward and swung the hammer down on Gray.

The man yelped and scrambled to his feet. The knife clattered to the floor as he used both hands to subdue the angry child.

“Eddie! Run!” Bill knew he wouldn’t distract Gray for long like this. His arm swung up and down rapidly. He wanted to hurt Gray badly. His blood ran cold when he saw that Eddie’s arm was broken.

“You brat!” One of Gray’s large gloved hands shot out and grabbed Bill’s wrist tightly. His muscles were still sore from the chains, and so he cried out and dropped his weapon when Gray squeezed tightly.

“Bill!” Eddie wailed. He stayed huddled by the table. Why didn’t he make a break for it while their tormentor was distracted? Was there something wrong with his legs, too?

It didn’t take long for Gray to overpower Bill. He swung Bill around by his captured arm and then knocked his legs out from under him. Bill fell to his knees and then Gray pushed him onto his stomach, pulling the boy’s arms behind him. It took only seconds for Bill to be pinned down like a hog.

Now that he was back in control, Gray laughed. “Oh, Little Buddy, that wasn’t very nice! And after I’ve tried soooo hard to be a good host to you! I think you made me _bleed_!”

“Let me go!” Bill demanded. What else could he do! “Let Eddie go!”

“Ooooh, is this your friend, Billy?” Gray taunted. He turned Bill’s head to face the other boy. “I found him snooping around under the porch. Are all your friends no nosy, Billy? Maybe I’ll make all of them float!”

Bill gagged as he was forced to think of his friends ending up on hooks in the basement. 

“I was looking for you, Bill,” Eddie admitted, voice soft and teary. “We are all. We-we haven’t heard much from your folks, but me and Stan and Richie wanted to find you. Richie went to the Barrens and Stan went downtown and I came...here.”

“Eddie,” Bill whispered. He was touched that his friends came to look for him, but even more-so horrified at the situation he’d unintentionally put Eddie in.

“Well, Eds, you found him, alright!” Gray taunted. He pressed his knee into Bill’s back, earning a groan from the boy. “And now you’re here with Billy and Pennywise. And guess what? You’re never leaving!”

Gray sprung off Bill and dragged him backward by his arms. Bill started to cry as he was pressed into a heavy, old wooden chair and Gray tied his arms behind him.

“You want to know what I did to Georgie, Billy? Well, why don’t I just show you!” Gray retrieved his knife and waved it at his captive in a faux friendly matter.

“No! Please don’t hurt him!” All of Bill’s earlier bravado was gone. All he could do now was cower and whimper and beg for Eddie’s life. Even now, his friend was looking at him with pleading eyes, wanting his Big Bill to come and save him. 

Gray turned toward Eddie and Bill screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of Eddie’s tortured screams were horrendous. Bill wanted to keep his eyes on his friend, he really did. But the sight of Eddie being mutilated by Gray quickly became too much to bear. All it took was seeing the knife glide through Eddie’s injured arm to make Bill shut his eyes and turn his head away. He felt like a coward. He couldn’t even look at Eddie in his last moments.

Bill sobbed along with his friend while Gray’s demented laughter nearly drowned them both out. Eddie screamed for Bill’s help, and his mother, and for God, for _somebody_ to help him. Bill’s struggled while his body shook with the force of his cries. But he was weak from he emotional and physical strain, and the knots were too tight to escape. He could do nothing.

His stomach tried to empty itself again when the sound of blood and flesh dropping on the floor hit his ears. All that came up was spit and the last bit of stomach acid Bill had. He felt like he would choke on it. He wished that he would. Then he wouldn’t have to sit and listen to his friend being tortured and killed.

Just when Bill thought Gray couldn’t get even more fucked up, the man surprised him. God, Eddie was just a scrawny kid; short for his age and asthmatic. He couldn’t put up a decent fight against Gray under the best circumstances. How could Gray cut him up like it was nothing? How could a human being have so little empathy for a child?

It took Bill a few moments to realize the screaming stopped. There was still the gross wet sounds of the knife and Gray laughing under his breath. Bill couldn’t help it. He had to look. He owed it to his friend to at least do that.

Eddie was still breathing, and it would be a mercy when he ceased. Bill had seen plenty of horror movies but he could never imagine something like the scene before him. Eddie’s skin had turned red. No, it was mostly gone. His arms were reduced to pulpy red stumps. Thick, dark blood ruined his clothes and continued to dribble onto the floor around him. Eddie’s shirt had been sliced open and his boney chest was in ribbons. Eddie’s eyes were closed. The boy’s mind had long since checked out from this horror. Gray had stopped butchering and was arranging bits of flesh nearby.

Bill blacked out.

 

He awoke to his face being slapped – _hard_.

Bill’s mind didn’t want to release him from the peacefulness of sleep. But the insistent _whack, whack, whack_ against his cheek soon forced him into consciousness. 

He cried out as his body finally processed the pain. Ah, his face felt like it was on fire! Squirming away did nothing. There was no easy escape from Bob Gray.

Gray gave him one more hit before giggling and pulling back. With a repulsive gentleness, he placed his hand under Bill’s chin and tilted the boy’s head upwards. Bill’s eyes strayed to Eddie. He couldn’t stop himself from checking to see if there was more damage. 

Eddie’s body was gone. All that remained of the Kaspbrak boy was a large blood stain on the floor. He missed Eddie’s final moments. Where was he now? Hanging up in the basement?

Gray snapped his fingers in front of Bill’s face, drawing his captive’s attention back. The twisted grin on the clown’s face sent a chill up Bill’s spine. 

“Now, Little Buddy, see what you did to yourself? If you had just been a good boy and stayed upstairs, you wouldn’t have had to see all that!”

“Y-Y-Y-Y-” Bill tried to force something out. A cry, an insult, a plea. But nothing would come. His body was locked down with all the emotion. 

Gray leaned down, as if to share a secret. “Your little Georgie sure was tasty! You know that, Billy? Tender and sweet and full of tasty, tasty fear! And so was Eds back there! He sure was scared, right? Fear is just so delicious! You agree, don’t you, Little Buddy? I know you do! You’ve been eating it every night! Maybe I’ll feed you some of Eds later. All out of Georgie, though, sorry!”

Bill could only stare at the clown in shock and fear. Would this nightmare ever end? Was he going to end up on Gray’s chopping block next?

Gray was still smiling, but his eyes hardened. “Ooooooor, maybe Billy doesn’t deserve that. Yes, Billy’s been a naughty boy! First, he sneaks out of his room. Then, he tries to hurt poor Bobby and keep him from getting dinner! And after I’ve been sooooo _nice_ to you!”

He backhanded Billy, causing the boy’s vision to spin. Before he could regain his senses, Gray released him from the chair, but then rebound Bill’s arms in front of him. 

Bill let out little cries as he was dragged from the room. Was this it? Was he going to die?

A door opened and Bill was flung into a closet. He looked up at Gray as he cowered on the old and dirty carpeted floor.

“You don’t like your room, Little Buddy? Fine, you can just stay here and think about what you’ve done! You can come out when you’re ready to apologize to me.”

The door slammed shut.

 

The closet wasn’t too far away from the kitchen, so Bill could hear Gray moving around in there. A jovial tune was whistled over cleaning chemicals being poured and a mop swirling around. The smell of bleach wafted into the closet.

There was the faint echo of the front door opening and closing, and then silence. Bill was never more relieved that Gray was gone. The mere thought of the man and what he was capable of made Bill sick to his core. His captor could come back any moment and rip Bill to shreds.

It didn’t seem long before dusk must have set and the sunlight illuminating Bill’s surroundings faded away. It was only less than a few hours ago that Bill had been so excited and hopeful. 

Without light or company or the ability to really move, Bill was left only with his thoughts in the darkness.

Eddie’s last, terrible moments of life played on repeat in Bill’s mind. He thought everything over again and again. Surely there was some way Bill could have helped! It was just like Georgie again. Bill wasn’t fast enough or strong enough and someone he cared about was butchered by an evil clown.

Bill’s tear ducts were starting to run dry but his body still needed to let out all the horrible emotions he was feeling. He dry sobbed and retched up more spit. Bill wished Gray would have lied and said he just killed Georgie for fun. Made it quick and easy and buried the child’s body in a shallow but respectable grave. But no, Georgie had been tortured and sliced up and _fucking_ eaten by a sadistic cannibal. 

The fact that Bill hadn’t been tricked into eating his own brother was a small relief.

What were Stan and Richie doing? Had they realized yet that Eddie was missing? Did they have to tell Eddie’s mom that they lost track of her only son? Bill didn’t envy them that duty. Mrs. Kaspbrak was fiercely overprotective of her son. Hell, Bill was fairly sure she didn’t even like that Eddie had friends that often coaxed him outside and into mischief. Bill could practically hear the large woman squealing and fussing over her son’s absence. For the first time, Bill felt pity for Mrs. Kaspbrak. Even if she was bothersome, Eddie was her world, and that world had been destroyed today. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would become sullen and silent like the Denbroughs, or would she finally go totally crazy?

If there was one plus side to being the prisoner to a madman, it was Bill would probably die before he had to tell anyone how their children died.

Bill dozed off for a little while, and it was still dark when he woke. Some of his drive had returned. His energy was depleted and his stomach growled, but he dug deep and kicked the door. The old wood creaked but didn’t budge. Damn it, he could still get out of here! There were still plenty of other Georgies and Eddies he could save! If Bill didn’t, then it would be his own fault that Gray claimed more victims. It felt like he spent hours kicking at the door and crying out in frustration, but nothing changed. He was still trapped. His feeble strength wasn’t enough. And as hungry as he was, Bill was glad he didn’t have to eat anything Gray brought him tonight.

Bill’s continued to sleep on and off until what had to be mid-morning. The summer heat made the cramped space quite hot. Bill took slow and deep breaths to help keep his body cool. There was no source of fresh air coming in, leaving the threat of suffocation hovering over Bill. Another problem arose when his bladder finally made its presence known. Bill groaned and leaned back. What was he supposed to do now? Unless Gray returned and graciously let Bill use the toilet before doing God only knew what to the boy, Bill would just have to try and ignore it.

And yeah, that worked for awhile. Bill forced himself to day dream about pleasant things for awhile. He couldn’t think about home or food, because that just brought him back to his recent losses and growling, aching stomach. Space, movies, pretty girls, comics, heavy metal…

Time passed and his kidneys started to hurt. Shit, maybe Bill could aim at the bottom of the door and the oncoming mess would leak outside? There wasn’t enough room in the closet for him to piss in the corner and have the rug just soak it up. 

He tried to drift off again, and his fantasy of playing electric guitar was interrupted by a warm spot growing on the front of his pants. Once his body started to relieve itself, Bill couldn’t stop it. He let out a humiliated sob as his pants quickly became a warm and sticky mess. This would just be another thing for Gray to mock him over. The wetness made it uncomfortable to move, and it only became worse when it all turned cold. Bill sat very still for a long while. 

Now there was nothing distracting Bill from his hunger. Instead of wanting his mother’s lasagna or a greasy cheeseburger or peanut butter, Bill craved Gray’s cooking. The thought alone made him retch in shame and disgust towards himself. How could he? Even after learning what it was! Hell, he might as well be asking for Georgie’s head on a platter! Maybe Eddie’s fingers while he was at it!

The heat in his small cage was suddenly unbearable. Bill lost all tolerance for his situation. (Not that he had much.) Damn it, he needed to get out of this closet. He _needed_ fresh air. He _needed_ proper food and a change of clothes and he _needed_ for his life to be normal again!

It was was almost dark again. Bill used the remaining light to help guide himself to his feet. His legs were sore and the mess was bothersome, but he ignored it. Bill steadied himself best he could before throwing himself against the door. With little strength left, it didn’t have much of an effect. Bill cried out in frustration and rammed against the obstacle to his freedom again and again. The door wouldn’t budge. It wouldn’t be surprising if their was a lock on the outside.

With the last of his strength finally gone, Bill sank back onto the dirty and smelly carpet. He tied to wipe the sweat on his face off on his shirtsleeves. God, he was going to have a heatstroke.

His whole body was shaky now. Bill couldn’t calm himself down and dry sobbed more. His heart was beating too fast and he couldn’t catch his breath. It was too dark to see anything, but Bill felt like the room was spinning. It felt like he was dying. Was this how it ended? Not by Gray’s hand, after all?

But Bill didn’t want to die! He didn’t want to suffer a heart attack or whatever was happening to him! He didn’t want to be stuck, dirty and afraid in a lunatic’s house! Bill didn’t want to feel anymore fear. But that what Gray’s wanted, right? For Bill to be scared enough to eat! Maybe Gray would be back soon. Maybe he would pounce now that his prey was weak enough!

And maybe Bill deserved to die! That’s what Bill Denbrough had coming to him! He let Georgie die and he let Eddie die and now he was craving human meat! Bill was no better than Gray now! They might as well put him down like the sorry dog he was! Yeah, his parents would be better off without him. No more Stuttering Bill to weigh everyone down!

His body sporadically twitched. There wasn’t enough energy left to continuously shake.

Bill leaned against the wall next to him. It was the closest he could get to lying down. He breathed deeply and was eventually able to calm down some. He still felt sick and pathetic.

Sleep eventually came again.

 

He woke up just in time to hear the approaching footsteps. It was all the warning he had before the door was flung open and bright light flooded the space. Bill shut his eyes and grimaced. Was the daylight always so bright?

Gray laughed at him. “Well, look at you, Little Buddy! Did you have fun in there?”

Bill groaned and squinted at his captor. The clown suit and make-up was gone, replaced by a simple black shirt and jeans. Bill was too weak to try anything. His captor could do anything right now and Bill wouldn’t – couldn’t – fight back.

Smile never faltering, Gray’s eyes roamed over Bill’s messy form and he tutted. “What on earth did you do to yourself, Billy? It wasn’t like you were locked in there or anything!”

Bill found he didn’t mind being mocked as long as he wasn’t being hurt. He knew very well what Gray was capable of.

He flinched when Gray reached for him.

“Now, now,” the man cooed. He dragged Bill out by his shoulders and then pulled the boy to his feet. He wrapped an arm around Bill’s shoulders to steady him. The man didn’t seem to care about Bill’s filthy clothes.

Gray hummed some off-key tune as he guided Bill upstairs. Bill’s legs were stiff and achy, so the journey was a slow one. The light continued to sting Bill’s eyes, and he didn’t think twice before burying his face in Gray’s shirt. If he lived long enough, he knew he would regret showing such weakness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

He didn’t look up until Gray tapped his cheek. They were in Bill’s bathroom. 

Gray pointed toward the tub, which Bill noticed was full of steaming water. “Okay, Little Buddy, get in.”

Bill hesitated. He had been craving a bath for over a week now. The only thing was, Gray wasn’t leaving the room. Couldn’t he let Bill have this one dignity left?

Gray looked at Bill’s still bound arms. “Oh, right.” Pulling a box cutter out of his back pocket, he easily cut through the rope, freeing the sore limbs. He gestured more insistently at the waiting bath. “Go on already! Aren’t I being nice to you, Billy? Even though you don’t deserve it!”

When Bill didn’t move, Gray huffed impatiently and pulled off the boy’s shirt.

Bill struggled as Gray reached for his pants next. “Calm down, kid! I already told you I didn’t want to fuck you.” 

Soon enough, Bill was naked and climbing into the tub. He believed Gray when the man said he didn’t care about nudity, but that didn’t mean Bill wanted to be so vulnerable in front of him. Despite the relentless heat he suffered the past two days, Bill relaxed into the warm water. He wanted to stay in this spot forever. He sunk down to his nose. Glancing to the side, he saw Gray tossing his soiled clothes into a trash bag. Good. Bill didn’t want them back.

Bill closed is eyes and let his body go limp. Despite the constant sleeping he had been doing lately, Bill felt he could drift off again. It was easy to try and have a peaceful moment in the bath. 

That was interrupted by a large splash near his face. Bill sputtered and sat back up, quickly trying to blow out the water that shot up his nose. 

He turned to see Gray smirking at him. “Don’t take all day, Little Buddy,” was all the man said before leaving the room.

At least Bill had that going for him. He reached down to retrieve the bar of soap that Gray had tossed and eagerly lathered it between his fingers. It was wonderful to finally wash away the many layers of dirt and grime and sweat and piss off his skin. Bill could almost pretend that this was a normal summer afternoon, and he was home after a long day of playing in the hot sun. It was odd, but no matter how hard Bill scrubbed, a part of him still felt dirty.

He would have been content to stay in the dirtied water until it went cold, but Gray had other plans. The man walked in with a few towels. “You’re clean enough. Come on out.” He held one of the towels open, as if Bill was a toddler the man could scoop up.

Still with no will to fight, Bill reluctantly climbed out and snatched the towel away to wrap it around his waist. No way was Gray seeing more of Bill than he had to. 

Naturally, Gray laughed at him. Why was everything Billy did (besides gaining the upper hand) funny?

Gray took the other towel and rubbed it almost harshly over Bill’s dripping hair and upper half. Bill didn’t like it but knew it was easier to just let Gray do this. The box cutter stuck out of the man’s pocket. It would be nothing to pull it out and slice Bill’s throat.

After Bill was mostly dry, Gray lead him out of the room. To Bill’s surprise, there was now a pile of blankets on the floor. A set of clothing laid on top.

“Get dressed,” his captor ordered he before heading toward the door. “I’ll be riiiiiiight back!” He smiled when he saw Bill wince.

Bill hurried to cover himself. The clothing was a pair of blue pajama pants with a matching top. A new pack of underwear accompanied it. At least that was one thing Bill didn’t have to worry about. Where did these clothes come from? They certainly weren’t fresh off the rack, but he couldn’t make out any faded bloodstains or anything like that.

Gray soon returned with a bowl in hand. Bill stood still as the man approached.

Setting the bowl on the floor, Gray straightened and grinned, showing off his oddly sharp teeth. “Now, Little Buddy, can’t have you roaming around free again, can we?”

Bill didn’t resist as his ankle was once again shackled. He let out a small cry when Gray somehow tightened it, making the manacle a constant presence. The message was clear: _you haven’t escaped me._

Gray eased Bill down to sit on the blankets and retrieved the bowl. Bill started to panic. Oh god, what was it? _Who_ was it? Was it Eddie? Was it someone else he knew? 

Gray snickered. “Calm down, Billy! It’s just chicken!” He offered the bowl to Billy, who observed that it was chicken noodle soup. “Or, if you don’t want this, I’ll bring you the chef’s special! I _know_ how much you like it!”

Bill pushed down his revulsion and took the bowl. He was so very, very hungry, and that won out over everything. Gray watched him as he scarfed down the lukewarm soup. It made Bill feel like he was an animal being watched at the zoo, or maybe a house pet. His stomach was only partially sated when he finished the meager meal. Bill set the bowl down and looked at Gray expectantly. It seemed he wouldn’t die tonight, at least.

“You know, you keep surprising me, Billy,” Gray finally said. He pulled out the key to the shackles from thin air. “I didn’t even notice this was gone! I didn’t think you would ever dare to try and take it!” The smile on the man’s face was unnervingly creepy, as always, but also a little...proud? “It’s a good thing I dropped by and grabbed Eds when I did! Who knows where you would have run off to if I didn’t come home? Did you like what I did with the basement, Billy? I can tell that you went down there. Oh, and don’t worry, I’ve sealed all the windows down there! Did you like how many people I’ve made float? Tasty bits of meat floating and just waiting to be eaten! And now Eds is floating, too! He’s floating and it’s all thanks to you, Billy!”

Bill whimpered and looked away. No, no, he couldn’t think about that right now. 

“Oh, that reminds me! My little buddy still owes me an apology!”

Bill’s head snapped back toward Gray. What?

Gray nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah! Billy, say you’re sorry to me! Say you’re sorry for hitting Bobby and trying to run away! I promise I’ll forgive you!”

The last thing Bill owed this man was any sort of apology. He already ruined Bill’ life along with many others. Still, there was no getting out of this. “I-I’m….s-s-sorry...” The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Gray urged, obviously enjoying seeing Bill’s pride in tatters.

“I’m s-sorry...B-B-Bobby?”

“There we go!” Gray cheered and clapped. “You never call me by my name! You’re sooooo rude, Billy! But it’s okay. You have time to learn better!”

“What d-do you m-mean?”

Gray scooted closer and grasped Bill’s chin. “You’re fun, Little Buddy! I always have to make my own fun, but you provide it for free. I want to see what else you can do! I’m sure you can keep me entertained for a long time!”

Somehow, that was worse than hearing he was going to die soon. Was Bill truly going to be stuck with this man for a long time?

“And if not,” Gray trilled, “you can still always _float_.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next few days were peaceful enough. Bill was so exhausted from his ordeal. The stress had made him feverish, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He hated to be grateful toward Gray for anything, but Bill enjoyed having blankets to cuddle into now. He would burrow into them with relish, not minding the summer heat, and basking in the small promise of warmth and safety they offered. They were old and faded and likely from the pawn shop, but Bill couldn’t care less. He cocooned himself tightly and slept the time away.

Gray seemed to understand his captive was still too broken down to properly torment. He came at his usual time in the evenings. Work must have been good, since he was always in the clown get-up. (“Had to come over right away and check on my Little Buddy!”) Gray brought Bill more soup and water and insisted on watching Bill eat. Bill had been too weak and miserable to care. It reminded him of just a few weeks ago, when he was stuck in bed while his parents searched for Georgie. Nothing but loneliness and salty canned soup. And all because of the fucker in the room with him.

Gray didn’t bother him _too_ much. There was some light teasing. He would ruffle Bill’s hair while he ate and make disturbing jokes and do card tricks. He played the part of a magician well, and Bill was the only one available to be a “volunteer from the audience.”

He would depart once it grew dark, and would even leave Bill a large bottle of Gatorade to nurse during the day. As Bill regained his strength, he grew more suspicious. Gray was being generous – generous as any madman could be, anyway. It made Bill nervous. Did Gray want him to get better soon? Having a victim who didn’t at least try and fight back must not be as fun.

On the fourth day, Bill’s fever broke and he felt mostly normal again. Physically, anyway. Unfortunately, having energy meant he could burn it on fear and anxiety. And guilt. Couldn’t forget about the guilt eating away at him every single minute. The last time he had seen Eddie was forever burned into his brain. The possibilities of what exactly happened to Georgie haunted him. Bill found he was thinking of his family and remaining friends less, if only to prevent images of Gray tormenting and dispatching them as well from entering his mind.

He still couldn’t help but wonder if they were looking for him. Bill hoped and prayed that Stan or Richie didn’t come by here or cross paths with Gray in town. Did his parents ever bother searching for him like they did Georgie, or was it easier to just forget about their stuttering son? Was anyone hanging up posters with Eddie’s face yet? (Well, besides his mother, who was likely tormenting the police day and night. It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so sad.)

Gray came in today dressed casually. It was so odd how the clown outfit could transform him into something so inhuman in appearance. No one would ever guess that this seemingly normal young man was up to anything wrong. Bill, though, knew to never let his guard down.

“Are you feeling better today, Little Buddy?” Gray crouched down next to Bill and snatched off the blanket he was curled up in.

Bill grimaced at the loss of it. “Yes...B-Bobby.” The man insisted Bill use his name now, and Bill didn’t want to face the repercussions of refusing.

Gray ran a hand over Bill’s hair. “Ooh, goody-goody! I have something special planned for tonight.”

Bill’s stomach dropped. Oh lord, what did his captor have in store for him now?

After undoing Bill’s chains, Gray reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a new set of pajamas and handed them to Bill. “Here, go take a bath. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

Wordlessly, Bill accepted the red fabric and waited until Gray left the room to get up. What other choice did he have than to obey? He did feel sweaty and gross from being sick, anyway.

There was a pair of towels on top of the sink. Gray must have put them there last night. As Bill waited for the tub to fill, he wondered what could possibly be waiting for him downstairs. He could hear Gray moving around down there. Once the water was high enough, he stripped off his clothes and slipped in. The warm water helped calm him down, but his anxiety kept rising. Any “surprise” from Gray couldn’t be good.

(For a moment, Bill entertained the notion that Gray was going to take him back home and then leave town like none of this ever happened.)

He didn’t stay in the bath long. Bill didn’t want Gray to see him naked again. By the time he was dry and dressed, Gray had returned to fetch him.

“Let’s go, Billy!” He placed a hand on Bill’s back and guided him out of the room. Bill watched his step as they moved across the dirty floors. There was probably broken glass and rat droppings around, too. Maybe some kid’s eyeball or tongue. He wished for a pair of slippers.

Gray lead him down the stairs and into what must have once been a dining room. There was a small folding table in the center of the room, along with two wooden chairs with high backs and arm rests.

Bill started to panic when he noticed the two plates resting on the table, both covered with a large piece of meat. If Bill had still been blissfully ignorant, he would have guessed it was tenderloin. Too bad he knew exactly what it was. He dug in his heels and refused to budge.

This only amused Gray. “What’s wrong, Bill? Aren’t you tired of soup? I thought you’d like a proper meal!” He pushed Bill closer to the table. “Go on! Sit, sit! I set this up juuust for you!”

Bill shook his head vehemently. He refused to eat anyone else. Bill had no interest in being a willing cannibal, not one bit! “ _No_.”

“No?” Gray echoed, tone mocking.

“No!” Bill cried. He could already feel his bile rising. It didn’t matter how appetizing the meat looked...Damn it! What had Gray done to him?

Gray grinned eerily at him before reaching out and grabbing Bill’s arm. He pushed the sleeve of Bill’s shirt up to his elbow.

“W-What are you – Ah!” Bill screamed as Gray bit down hard on his arm. Tears sprung to his eyes as sharp teeth cut into his skin. The man only clamped on tighter when Bill tried to squirm away. Gray moved his jaw from side to side, as if he were a dog gnawing on a bone. Blood dripped down the wounded appendage and over Gray’s chin.

Bill was sobbing by the time Gray pulled off. His entire arm was throbbing with pain. He shuddered as Gray licked the remaining blood off. Two rows of bite marks now decorated Bill’s skin. He could only pray they wouldn’t leave a scar. 

Gray walked over to a nearby shelf and retrieved a First-Aid kit. Had he been anticipating Bill’s defiance? Hoping for it? Gray took out a small bottle and sprayed disinfectant on Bill’s wounds, laughing when the boy flinched. “Remember, Little Buddy, it can always be _you_ on the table. You’re almost tasty enough for it!”

He wrapped Bill’s arm loosely with gauze before grabbing the boy’s shoulders and forcing him over to a chair. He pushed Bill to sit and pointed to the still warm meat. “Eat, Billy. It’s a really tender cut! I even used that seasoning you like!”

Bill sucked his lips into his mouth and shook his head.

Gray’s smile turned into an exaggerated frown. “But Billy, I worked so hard on this! Won’t you take just one eensy weensy little bite? For Bobby?”

Bill turned his head away. The smell of the meat reminded him of his mother’s pot roast. His belly needed something substantial after four days of thin broth and sports drinks. God, Bill hated himself so much right now.

Gray tapped the metal fork against the plate. “Last chance, Billy boy.”

Bill didn’t move.

Gray sighed dramatically. The next thing Bill knew, his good arm was being handcuffed to the arm of the chair. He immediately tried to jerk it free. All he did was irritate the already sensitive skin. “Stop! Get t-this thing off!”

He tensed when Gray took out his box cutter. “You had your chance, Little Buddy!”

Bill whimpered as Gray rolled up his sleeve. It was easy to guess what was coming.

That didn’t stop him from screaming and struggling when the blade sunk into his flesh. The cut was shallow, but it still bled and it _hurt_. Another round of fresh, hot tears ran down his cheeks. Bill turned his head away so Gray couldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing him cry more.

Judging by the demented cackling, Gray was still enjoying this very much. The man drew several horizontal lines down Bill’s skin. He allowed the blood to gather and drip onto the floor.

Bill was certain that he was about to end up like Eddie. What was keeping Gray from flaying him alive? He could take a chunk out of Bill’s flesh and eat it right in front of the boy. Maybe Bill should be grateful his skin wasn’t being removed. It sure as hell felt like it was.

Gray grasped a handful of Bill’s hair and turned his head back toward his fresh wounds. “See what you keep making me do, Billy? If you just do what I say like a good little boy, you wouldn’t get hurt!”

Bill had several arguments against that, but he was still crying too hard to voice them.

Gray finally had his fill of seeing Bill bleed. He wiped the blade clean on the back of Bill’s shirt, and then cleaned and dressed the scratches. Not only was Bill subdued and humiliated, again, but he couldn’t put up much of a fight with his wounded and aching limbs. All he could do right now was keep his head bowed in a poor attempt to hide his tears.

The opposite chair creaked over the wooden floor as Gray pulled it back. “Well, even if you’re not hungry, Little Buddy, I sure am! You made me work up an appetite!”

Bill shuddered and tried to block out the sounds of cutlery sawing through meat and Gray chewing loudly. What happened in this man’s life that would cause him to butcher a child and then serve them at the dinner table? Gray just had to be born crazy. Crazy and weird and really good at hiding it from the world.

Gray scarfed down his meal quickly, letting out a loud belch when he was done. “It’s _good_ , Billy,” he promised.

Bill felt there was nothing in the world he could stand eating right now. The pain in his arms grew with every passing minute, and it was all he could focus on. He stiffened as Gray rose from his chair and walked back over to him. “Are you going to eat now?”

Bill sniffled and shook his head.

Gray made a disapproving sound and reached down to dig his nails into Bill’s lower thigh. “Do you want me to play with your leg, too?”

Bill looked up, startled. He would be completely helpless if he lost full movement of a leg, as well. “P-P-Please...Bobby...”

Gray’s smirk was victorious. He turned to the plate, picked up the knife and fork, and sawed off a small piece. “Say ahhhhh,” he cooed as he lifted the fork to Bill’s mouth.

Bill turned his head away. No, no, no. He refused to do this again. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. It would be better to let himself starve.

“It’s rude to not eat your host’s cooking, Billy! Didn’t your mommy teach you that? No wonder she doesn’t miss you!”

He used his free hand to pry Bill’s jaw open. The boy didn’t have the strength to fight back. Gray quickly shoved the piece of loin into Bill’s mouth, and then placed a hand over it so Bill couldn’t spit the food out.

Bill still tried. The very flavor he loved less than a week ago was now repulsive. It could be someone’s little brother or sister. An innocent life ripped away so their flesh could be devoured by a madman. He attempted to push it out with his tongue without tasting it. Gray tutted and tipped Bill’s head back. It would be easy to just swallow the piece whole. Bill breathed hard through his nose and kept still.

He whimpered when Gray retrieved the box cutter and waved it in front of his face. The warning was clear. Bill cursed himself for it, but he couldn’t stand any more pain tonight. Gray might decide to cut the tendons in his legs, or something equally horrible. Bill was only human and his need to survive triumphed over everything else. Pushing aside thoughts of how he was going to burn in Hell, Bill gulped and allowed the meat to slither down his throat.

“Good job, Little Buddy!” Gray cheered. It was hard to tell if that was genuine or not.

Gray whistled as he cut the rest of the loin into bit sized pieces. “Are you going to make me feed you?”

Bill hesitated briefly before taking the fork. He knew this was a battle he already lost. He got through the first few bites by pretending it was beef. His stomach cramped and the urge to vomit it all back up kept growing.

“Who is this?” he finally blurted, voice strained from crying. The need to know was beginning to consume him. Somehow, it seemed that would honor whoever this meat belonged to.

Gray, who had returned to his seat, beamed at the question. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” Bill was surprised at how steady his voice was.

“Alright, alright, let me think…Oh! His name was Patrick Hockstetter. I think that’s what the poster said, anyway.”

“Hockstetter?” Bill repeated. It was a name he knew well. Patrick was one of the greasy haired weirdos who hung out with Henry Bowers. The slightly older boy had been tormented Bill and his friends for years. And now he was in Bill’s stomach.

“Did you know him, Billy?”

“A little,” Bill admitted. “He was j-just an-n-nother bully.” It was hard to connect the tall boy who broke Richie’s glasses and mocked Bill stutter and Eddie’s asthma and threw dirt at Stan to the seared meat on his fork. 

“A bully, huh? So I must have done you a favor by killing him!” Gray concluded as he clapped his hands. 

“What? No!” Even Patrick Hockstetter didn’t deserve this! Perhaps Juniper Hill or a dark, lonely hole in the ground, but not to be cannibalized!

“You sure? He seemed like such a nasty boy. I came across him when he was chasing this fat little boy around with a lighter and can of hairspray near the river. I tried offering him a balloon but he just laughed at me and called me Bozo! Can you believe it? He lost all that bravado when I got the lighter away from him, though. He was so easy to make float!”

Bill swallowed heavily and pushed away his plate. The thought of having to eat someone like Hockstetter in was almost more upsetting than having to eat anyone at all.

Gray didn’t look happy, but relented. “Fine, but you’re not getting anything else tonight.”

Bill stiffened as Gray approached again. What was going to happen now?

Gray hummed some distorted version of calliope music as he uncuffed Bill’s wrist and tossed the metal aside. An arm went under Bill’s knees and the other was wrapped around his shoulders. Gray lifted him as if he was light as a feather. Bill allowed it. Should he be put on his feet, he knew he would immediately drop and curl up on the floor. Large tears still leaked from his eyes.

Gray continued to hum as he carried Bill across the house. Bill vaguely recognized the room they arrived in. He last saw it when he first came to this damned place, just another empty room. Now, the dusty floor had been swept and the cobwebs were cleared away. A second hand couch was placed in front of a small television set.

Gray placed Bill on the cushions and sat next to him. Bill brought his knees up to his chest and folded his hands on front of his legs. It hurt to much to do anything with his arms. Gray grabbed the remote and switched the television on. He threw an around Bill’s shoulders as he slowly flipped through the channels. 

When had Gray done all this, and why? Was he planning on spending more time in this house?

Unconsciously, Bill leaned against his captor’s side. He was just a child in pain, and he wanted comfort. Gray’s large torso reminded Bill of his father, and he cuddled into him. Now it was Gray who tensed up. The man was still for a moment before he abruptly pushed Bill away. He handed the remote to the boy.

“Here. Just don’t watch that stupid show about ninja turtles.”

Gray scooted a bit further away. What was his problem? Did he only like touch when it was to make someone else uncomfortable? Bill mourned the loss of bodily warmth, but he was mostly glad that Gray moved from him. It made it easier to channel search like this was another night at home. Georgie liked the same shows Bill did and their parents were fine with whatever.

Bill didn’t want to watch the news. It would only be Hockstetter’s face and whatever other kid recently fell victim to Gray. Instead, Bill settled on re-runs of Duck Tales and found it a well enough distraction from his bleary eyes and stinging arms and aching soul. He barely even noticed Gray didn’t speak to him again for the rest of the night.

Bill must have drifted off, for he woke the next morning on top of his blanket pile, wrists and ankle chained tightly.


	7. Chapter 7

The Denbroughs could be easily seen through their kitchen window. Nowadays, the unhappy couple would be sitting at the kitchen table for hours on end, especially in the evenings. Sitting in silence was the norm, but occasionally they had the energy to grieve and plan and throw tantrums about how life just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like they had anything better to do with their time. There were certainly no little boys for them to feed and entertain and help with homework.

They were much too preoccupied with other things to stop and wonder if anyone was watching them from the cover of a nearby tree. No, not even the presence of mind to close their drapes!

Robert Gray snickered to himself as he continued to spy on the unsuspecting parents. But were they really parents anymore? How could they be, without children?

He first came here on a whim. Bill Denbrough’s missing poster listed his address, and so Bobby went to the place his little buddy used to live. It was always amusing to watch the families of his meals fret over their lost offspring. It was always the same: _Ooooh no! Where oh where is my little Timmy/Betty/Susie/Henry? I only let them outside for five hours unsupervised while I was busy drinking or getting fucked! Won’t someone find my stupid, ugly child? I miss them soooo much!_

Billy’s parents definitely put on that show for little Georgie. Watching them cry on the news was better entertainment than any late night talk show. Their youngest son had been easy prey. Bobby usually preferred kids a few years older than Georgie was – there was more meat and less baby fat – but Bobby had been hungry and Georgie looked so tender and sweet. A delicious little lamb ready for slaughter. So naive and trusting enough to climb into Bobby’s car and go home with him. 

What was it Bobby promised him? Oh, yeah! He would give Georgie some more balloons and other goodies that he could share with best best Billy! (Oh, Bobby would have to tell his trapped small friend that detail one day!) And if the little boy realized something was wrong by the time Bobby locked the doors...well, it was far too late then. It wasn’t hard to drag the boy inside and chop a little arm right off! And he’d never seen a body bleed out so quickly! That arm had been a good appetizer for the feast Bobby would soon have.

Losing their oldest son seemed to have broken the Denbroughs completely. They appeared on the news two nights after Billy came kicking and screaming into Bobby’s life. Faces crumbled and eyes red, they begged for the return of their precious Bill. They were quiet, already defeated. Maybe, deep down, they already accepted both their sons were gone forever.

And they were both gone because of him! One for his stomach, and the other for his amusement. If Bobby had less self-control, he would waltz right up to their front door, invite himself in, and inform the pair about how he had their first born in his clutches and was never, ever giving him back! When their Billy was no longer fun, he would end up just like Georgie! 

(Of course if he did that, the boys in blue would pay him another visit, and Bobby did not need that annoyance. Why did people always suspect the poor clown when their kiddies disappeared after parties?)

Bobby contemplated breaking in when the Denbroughs were gone and finding Billy’s room. Perhaps he could grab some of the kid’s stuff and bring it to him. The look on his face would be _hilarious_. Why not get some things of Georgie’s while he was at it? The torn and bloody yellow rain coat in the basement would always serve as a trophy, but a few more mementos couldn’t hurt.

Too bad that wouldn’t happen today. It was going to be one of the days when the couple did nothing but sit around and sulk. He would risk getting caught he if tried anything now. Oh, well. Always plenty of opportunities in the future.

Bobby eventually grew bored of this and wandered off the Denbroughs’ property. He had no gigs scheduled this afternoon to be Pennywise, and it was also his day off from the party supply store he worked part-time at. It was early enough to kill a few hours before returning back to Neibolt St.

It was that crumbling old house that brought him to Derry in the first place. Some old great-uncle or whatever owned the place when he died and left it in his will to whichever family member wanted it. Not that Bobby asked around, but it seemed no one else wanted the depreciated Victorian. What good was it, really? Too broken down and creepy to fix-up, and it was some backwater town in Maine.

But that was why Bobby jumped at the chance to have it. He was happy to ditch his old life in Minnesota to move to this delightful little town. It was like Derry was _made_ for him. Adults who had better things to do than guard their offspring, and said tasty morsels just running around free and ready for consumption. How many had he taken since he arrived in town? Twenty? Thirty? So many missing posters and cries for help went unnoticed and were soon forgotten. Bobby felt like he was a wolf let loose in a field of sheep. Even so, he would have to slow down some. Eventually someone would notice the vast increase in disappearances…maybe.

The house itself fit his needs perfectly. It only took a few questions from the townsfolk to learn that everyone thought the house numbered twenty-nine was haunted or cursed or full of monsters. That was mostly from the kids. The adults thought it was a hide-out for criminals or a shelter for homeless junkies. (Bobby did encounter a few of those on his new property, and they were swiftly dealt with. Adults weren’t as tender as children, but easy prey was easy prey.) The house inspired _fear_. Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear! Bobby first discovered how wonderfully fear flavored meat years ago. One cousin owned a farm where Bobby would entertain himself by scaring the animals he knew would be slaughtered soon. They always tasted better, as if fear was what salted and basted the meat. No one ever believed him about that, though. Being in the clutches of a strange clown was enough to scare most children, but being brought to the local haunted house made them so much more afraid. The isolation also meant he would be able to butcher his meat in peace.

Bobby eventually made his way downtown. People busied themselves with ice cream and comic books stores and back-alley smoking. Not one bit of attention was paid to the numerous missing posters hanging around. Bobby stopped and giggled to himself. He remembered every sweet face. Betty Ripsom was who he caught the same day as Billy. Eddie Corcoran was scrawny but had delicious innards. Gard Jagermeyer was dumb and slow and was made into several excellent roasts. 

“Excuse me, mister?”

“Hmm?” Bobby turned to see a young boy standing next to him. Shaggy black hair and glasses. About Billy’s age. There was a stack of paper held in his arms. His expression was one of worry and there were bags under his eyes. It wouldn’t be very hard to turn that worry into fear…

“My name is Richie,” the boy said. “I’m looking for some friends of mine. Have you seen them?”

He handed Bobby some of the paper. He almost laughed aloud when when recognized them as posters for Billy and Eddie Kaspbrak. Oh, Richie must be one of the other friends looking for Billy! Maybe Bobby would get lucky and Richie would decide to stop by Neibolt to search, too.

Richie must have mistaken his amusement for recognition. His face lit up. “Have you seen them?” he repeated. So very hopeful and eager.

Bobby made a show of sighing deeply and shaking his head. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m actually new to town. I haven’t seem either of them. But I can keep this info, if you want! I’ll be sure to keep a look out for them!” he folded the fliers and put them in his back pocket.

Richie’s face fell. “Oh. Well, thanks, anyway.” He didn’t even try to hide his disappointment.

Bobby grinned as he watched Richie walk over to a boy with blond curls, who was also handed out fliers. Just how many friends did Billy have who were desperate to have him back? He stayed and watched them try and get someone to care for their lost friends for a bit. Other kids and some adults ignored them, while others politely accepted the fliers and tossed them in the garbage once Richie and Curly weren’t looking. They both looked so sad and alone. Maybe Bobby should pay one of them a visit next. What attentive parent would let their child spend their afternoon doing what the police or the Denbroughs should be?

Bobby continued on. His feet were starting to hurt and he wished he had taken his car, which was parked back at his cheap apartment. The place was boring but it was convenient enough. As much as he loved Neibolt house, it would only attract unwanted attention if he lived there full time. Bobby decided to walk around town not only to find prey, but to keep himself in shape. The best looking morsels were often the strongest, too. He needed to stay in shape to hunt properly.

As he passed by the few families that were out together, Bobby’s thoughts strayed to his own. Bobby didn’t think about them or his old home very often. Why would he waste time on them? His extended family was large. He had many cousins who had successful businesses and large houses and money and all that jazz. Not that Bobby cared. They were all boring and pretentious and thought they knew everything. 

In his immediate family, there was only a brother. Hmph. Fucking _Marty_. Their parents were always absent and died a long time ago, but Bobby knew they always preferred his brother. They were nothing alike. Marty was slow and dull and lazy. He thought _peace_ and _good will_ were the answer to everything. He started projects he didn’t finish and slept all the time. It was a wonder he hadn’t died of a heart attack in his sleep yet. Not that Bobby would know if he did. He cut off all contact when he moved to Maine. No one, especially not Marty, understood Bobby and his ideals. Bobby was the only one who knew how to truly _live_. Bobby did what he wanted, slept when he wanted, ate what he wanted, worked whatever job he wanted. Bobby simply lived to consume whatever looked appetizing, and they thought he was _wrong_ for it!

No matter. They weren’t around anymore to get in his way. Bobby pushed all thoughts of them aside.

It was time to start thinking about dinner. He had several coolers stored in the Neibolt house to keep his meat from spoiling, although it was better when he let it dry-age in the basement. Ah, all those delicious bits of flesh hanging up was a wonderful sight. They all floated, tempting Bobby to grab some and sink his teeth in. Bobby had always enjoyed clowns: their costumes and their tricks and the way they attracted children. If he hadn’t become one himself, he would have become a butcher. And while that would entertain him some, nothing compared to dressing as Pennywise and going on a hunt.

The small grocery store he entered was wonderfully cool, a nice reprieve from the summer heat. As much as Bobby would like to have a strict carnivorous diet, he knew it wasn’t healthy, and he was in no hurry to get sick and die. He was also here for Billy. Tricking the boy into eating human flesh was one of the most entertaining things Bobby had done in a long time. If Billy hadn’t discovered that on his own, Bobby would have lost patience and informed Billy himself. As annoying as it was that Billy managed to escape and get into the basement, Bobby wished he had been able to see the look on the kid’s face when he saw all the bits of children floating.

Bobby grabbed a shopping basket and wandered around. Ugh, he had no idea what sorts of fruits and vegetables Billy liked. Maybe it didn’t matter. Billy would probably eat anything as long as it wasn’t a fellow human. Too bad, really. Billy had _clearly_ enjoyed the taste! Bobby grabbed whatever food looked familiar. Apples, bananas, oranges, bread, potatoes… 

Bobby wanted to try and make his little buddy a proper meal, if only to get him to eat his meat. Bobby had never found anyone who shared his ideals, so why not try and teach Billy a better way to live? Sometimes Bobby wasn’t sure why he hadn’t made Billy float yet, but then the kid was a good enough hobby. Bobby never had a proper pet before, and he imagined having Billy was close to that. Whether he was a pig being fattened for slaughter or a puppy being house broken, Bobby still wasn’t sure. No one was going to find Billy, so it wasn’t like Bobby had to decide anytime soon. He was a creature who found comfort in a familiar routine, and Billy had become part of that. 

Bobby didn’t like the girl who worked at the check-out counter. Too old to make float but young enough to pay attention to him. Her dark hair was always in a ponytail and her dull eyes always brightened when they saw him. Bobby didn’t like it and he didn’t understand why she did that. Bobby always made a point of not looking at her directly.

She didn’t mind when he practically dumped his items on the conveyor belt. “And how are _you_ today?” she asked, attempting to sound playful.

Bobby grunted in response and looked toward the nearby magazine rack. 

“Any big plans for this weekend? A hot date, maybe?” she pressed.

“No,” he bit out. It was too bad he couldn’t just scream his displeasure at her. This store was cheap and he didn’t want to be banned from it.

“Too bad...” She bagged his items and gave him his total. A hopeful look was on her face.

Before she could say anything else, Bobby tossed some money at her and practically ran out with his bags. He never liked it when people payed _that_ kind of attention to him. Bobby never reciprocated or really understood those kinds of feelings. He didn’t want to, and he didn’t want to waste his time holding hands or buying flowers or whatever those kinds of people did. It was bothersome when people tried it with him.

His aggravation turned to gleeful anticipation as he approached Neibolt St. Bobby hurried up the walking path and unlocked the side door. He started to whistle as he carried the bags into the kitchen and tossed them into the small fridge he recently brought in. He could organize things later. There were funner things to do right now.

As expected, Billy was still in the living room. Bobby had left only his ankle chained to the floor and left the boy with instructions to clean this and all the surrounding rooms. He didn’t have to do too good a job, just enough to clear away all evidence of Bobby’s hunting and butchering. 

“How’s my Little Buddy doing?” he asked. It was a favorite way to greet Billy. Bobby knew exactly how Billy was doing and loved seeing the boy’s frustrated expression.

“Fine. Just f-fine,” Billy snapped. He quickly went back to scrubbing at a dark stain with his mop.

“Why are you so grumpy? I thought you’d like having something to do!” Bobby continued to tease. 

Billy went back and forth between cowering and showing his feisty side. Right now he had bravado, and Bobby would be sure to knock that out of him later. Billy’s bravery was amusing, sometimes, but Bobby preferred it when the boy was under his control. What fun could they have tonight? Ooh, Bobby would show Billy the new posters of him and Eds and tell him how eager Richie was to find them. Would Billy be mad or sad or both? Would he give Bobby a good reason to punish him? Would today be the day the boy broke for good?

“Y-Yeah, by making m-m-me c-clean your f-fucking crack house!”

Bobby frowned and approached his captive. “Always so rude, Billy!” He laughed as he pushed the boy to the ground, and kept on laughing as he stepped on Billy’s stomach. He didn’t let up until Billy cried out. It was always good to show Billy who was in control.

In a moment, Bobby would allow Billy to have a break and give him an apple to snack on. He would let the boy watch television while he prepared a nice dinner of broccoli and rice and the Corcoran boy’s liver. And Billy would likely eat his vegetables and wait until Bobby forced him to eat the meat. Bobby didn’t mind, though. 

Punishing his little buddy was his current favorite game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was a nice look into what's going on in Bobby's head. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Bill had begun to keep a tally of how many days he was trapped in this damned house. While cleaning one day, he found a pen in a cabinet and pocketed it, and he put it to use now. One tiny line in a corner of his room right before sunset. A representation of another full day of being Gray’s prisoner. It was probably stupid, but he never marked in the morning in a vain hope that maybe he would be rescued before the sun went down. 

So far, there were thirty-four marks. Over a month of being trapped and abused like an animal. It seemed like just yesterday that he first crawled through the basement window in search of incriminating evidence. (Well, he certainly found some!) But when his daylights hours were so monotonous, they blended together and three days would seem like only one. 

It was in late July when Georgie went missing. School would be starting any day now. Would his classmates notice Bill’s absence? Would anything be said over the intercom about him or the other missing kids? About Eddie? Or were they all long forgotten by now? At least the Bowers gang would be one member short. The thought made him feel guilty, but he knew first-hand how terrible those assholes could be. Maybe Patrick’s disappearance would scare them into behaving.

Hopefully, his friends would keep his memory alive. Gray had left Bill with his and Eddie’s missing posters and some of other kids Bill claimed to know. He kept them under the sink in the bathroom. When Bill was feeling especially hopeless, he would take them out and look at them as a reminder that there was a chance he would be found. They also continued to fuel his hatred toward Gray. So many lives ruined by this evil, selfish man…

If Gray noticed his new hobby, the man didn’t say anything. Maybe he was even amused by it. While Bill was grateful to still be alive, he continued to feel like he was on thin ice. How much longer until Gray snapped and made Bill “float”? Maybe that was inevitable, but Bill was still determined to get Gray caught somehow before his short life ended. Bill would just have to keep biding his time until then.

As usual, his stomach grumbled throughout the day. Sometimes Gray would leave him with a drink or piece of fruit to snack on. Today was not one of those times. It was mental and physical torture. Being hungry for hours on end was a terrible feeling, and it was worse that he couldn’t look forward to his one proper meal a day. 

It was going to be human flesh, as always. Bill was getting better at keeping it down. There were several times over the past few weeks that Bill would rush to his bathroom after Gray left and vomit every bit of his repulsive dinner back up. It would help alleviate his guilt, but leave his empty stomach screaming for food.

He came to view the hunger as a weakness. Bill would gladly purge himself of whoever Gray fed him every night if he could. But he couldn’t take the hunger pains, and he needed whatever food he could get if he wanted to keep surviving. Bill hated himself for it. 

It was almost enough self-loathing to almost make him wish Gray would just stay away for the night and leave Bill to starve. At least then Bill couldn’t give into temptation.

Sure enough, Gray flounced into the room around sunset. No clown costume, but there were still bits of white pancake on the edges of his face. His creepy smile still made Bill shudder.

Bill flinched as Gray leaned down and grabbed his shoulders. “Little Buddy! Did you miss me today?”

Bill grimaced and shook his head. As if! “Why t-the h-h-hell would anyone m-miss you?”

A few light smacks were delivered to his cheek. Gray was excited, playful. Bill didn’t like it. The man couldn’t be up to any good.

Gray’s frown was exaggerated, and would maybe be comical under different circumstances. “Aw, but Billy, I know you’ve been alone all day! Little boys shouldn’t be by themselves so much. That’s why I thought of something we could do together!”

Bill immediately tensed. “I d-don’t want to do anything w-with you!”

“It’ll be fun, trust me!” Gray undid Bill’s shackles before seizing the boy’s wrist and leading him downstairs. It was getting close to their usual dinner time. Bill’s stomach growled in anticipation even as his heart sunk.

Gray took them into the kitchen. Bill observed how much cleaner it was than a few days ago. Most of the dirt and grime was gone. All the rust had been scrubbed off the stove top. Laid out on the counter was a large hunk of meat that was resting on a piece of foil, a plate full of vegetables, along with a sharp knife and a bottle of cooking oil. 

What was all this? Bill normally didn’t see any of the food until it was already prepared to eat.

“Surprise!” Gray cheered. “You’re going to help me cook tonight, Billy boy!”

His blood immediate turned cold. It was bad enough to have to consume the ill-gotten meat, but to have to actually handle it? Cook it? “No way!”

Gray tutted and shook a finger at him. “Now, Billy, you’ve been eating at my expense every night. The least you could do is help out from time to time!” 

“No!” Bill continued to protest. “I don’t w-want it! I d-d-don’t w-want to touch i-it!”

“You can and you will.” Gray’s tone was firm yet soft, and eerily reminded Bill of his mother when she wanted him or Georgie to try something new.

Gray retrieved two pans from a cabinet and set them on the stove. He turned the burners on to let them preheat. A cutting board was placed by the meat and vegetables. “Come here, Billy. Help me chop these mushrooms.”

Bill crept forward slowly. Maybe Gray would just make him do this and he wouldn’t have to touch the meat. He watched as Gray made quick work of an onion and bell pepper. Gray then dumped the package of mushrooms on the board and handed Bill a small knife.

Bill was slow to take it. Had someone been murdered with this knife? Skinned alive and sliced up? 

This could be his chance to use the weapon against Gray, Bill realized. The blade was only a few inches long, but it could do significant damage if Bill struck hard and fast enough. Maybe he could wound Gray and have time to find an -

Gray cleared his throat. “ _Today_ , Billy.”

Bill hoped Gray couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He diligently cut each each mushroom into pieces. His movements were slow and precise. Best to put off working with the meat as long as possible.

When he was done, Gray snatched the knife back and put it out of view. So much for that. What else could Bill do? There was still the large chef’s knife. He could hit Gray with one of the pans. Bill couldn’t forget that Gray was a lot taller and heavier than him. It wouldn’t be hard to subdue Bill if he tried either of those, and then he would surely be punished.

Gray tossed the vegetables into a hot pan. The immediate sizzling was appetizing. The aroma of it made his stomach growl again.

“Now, Little Buddy, on to the best part!” Gray placed the meat of the board. Red juices leaked out of it and soaked into the wood. “I’ve been dry aging this rib roast for a few weeks now. We should be able to get seven or eight steaks out of it. Depends on how thick you want them.”

Bill shook his head. “I -”

“You gain an appreciation for what you eat when you have a hand in preparing it,” Gray interrupted. “I know you like the flavor, Billy. If you just get over this little aversion you have to it, you’ll be a lot happier here!”

“You’re i-insane!” Bill spat. 

“No, I just have a better way of doing things,” Gray replied. “Come and cut a piece off for yourself.”

Bill would rather take whatever punishment Gray was planning than go near the meat. He was just about to turn and run when his captor grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. Damn. Was he getting too predictable?

Gray pushed Bill against the counter and stood behind him to pin him there. Despite the kid’s struggling, Gray managed to get the knife in Bill’s fist and used his own hand to keep it there. He placed Bill’s other hand on top of the roast.

“Go on, Little Buddy,” Gray urged. He was enjoying this.

Bill fought back frustrated tears. He didn’t want to do this! “W-Who -?”

“Oh, you want to know who this was? Umm, let me think...Her name was Greta something. I caught her when she was smoking outside the pharmacy.”

He must be talking about Greta Bowie. The blond girl was in Bill’s class. Bill never much liked Greta. She was nothing but a mean little bully, always throwing her weight around and tormenting the other girls. Bill overheard her and her friends mocking his stutter a few times.

But like Patrick Hockstetter, she didn’t deserve to end up like this. Strange that people Bill knew could be dead for weeks and he would only find out when they were being served for dinner. 

“I’m hungry, too, Little Buddy. Hurry up.”

“I c-can’t...please, Bobby -”

“It can always be one of your little friends on the cutting board, Billy,” Gray reminded him. “I see them out all the time, looking for you and poor Eds. It wouldn’t be hard to snatch them up and make them float.” 

Bill whimpered. Greta was bad enough, but the thought of Stan or Richie here made him want to break down. “You _m-monster_.”

Gray snorted. “Be happy I’m not making you eat Eds. Now get a move on.”

Swallowing heavily, Bill sawed through the meat, cutting a very small portion for himself, Gray’s hand tight over his the whole time. He then maneuvered Bill’s hand to cut another larger piece, which Bill assumed was Gray’s share. 

His bile continued to rise through all this. Bill was tired of being so helpless. Gray always knew how to cut him down when he fought back. How long was this going to happen? Couldn’t Bill win at least once?

When Gray finally released him, Bill turned and swung out with the knife. It was a thoughtless action, born of desperation and rage. Despite the consequences, Bill had to do something.

His aim was way off, so Gray easily dodged the blade. His shocked expression quickly turned to one of anger. “You fucking brat!” 

He lunged at Bill, easily wrenching the knife away and tossing it in the sink. Rationally, Bill knew this was a fight he would lose, but all his instincts were telling him to struggle anyway. For his own sake. For Eddie’s and Greta’s and everyone else’s sake.

Gray had a tight hold of his wrists, so Bill dropped to his knees in an attempt to pull the man down with him. Gray had to bend over some, but kept his grip. Bill kicked out at his captor’s shins. It did little more than make Gray stagger. The man had an almost supernatural strength, and Bill had weakened considerably over the last month. 

Gray was quick to retaliate. A hard kick was delivered to Bill’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Gray released his arms and Bill fell back on the floor.

The crazed man laughed at him.“Oh, Little Buddy, when will you learn?” With that, he kicked Bill over onto his front and then sat on the boy’s back. 

Bill groaned and tried to squirm away. It felt like someone dropped a house on him. He let out a frightened whine as Gray took hold of his left hand. The unmistakable sound of a box cutter being opened hit his ears. “Bobby, stop!”

“Why should I stop when my Little Buddy obviously wants to be taught a lesson?” Gray mocked. He got a tight grip on Bill’s ring finger. “Can’t you just behave for one day?”

Bill cried out as he felt the tip of the blade against his fingernail. “What are y-you doing?”

“You tried to hurt me, so I’ll hurt you. It’s only fair!” Gray tapped the blade against Bill’s skin, making a few small cuts. “Aren’t you even going to say sorry?”

“I’m s-s-sorry!” Bill immediately said, hating himself for his cowardice. “I’m sorry, B-Bobby!”

“ _S-S-Sorry!_ ” Gray echoed. “You’re a bad liar, Billy. But I’ll make you sorry!”

Bill screamed as the blade dipped underneath his nail and pried it right off. Pain shot through his body as the open wound throbbed and bled. Gray laughed and squeezed his finger, making it even worse. “Are you sorry now, Billy boy?”

“Yes!” he cried. “I am!” Hot tears were spilling down his cheeks. Why oh why did he ever try and attack Gray? This was the worst consequence Bill had to pay so far.

Gray continued to hold Bill down for several minutes. It felt like an eternity to Bill. Once again, he could do nothing but lie in pain while his captor watched and snickered at him. 

Bill was blinded by his tears as Gray climbed off him and propped the boy up against the sink cabinets. He curled up into himself, leaving his left arm out. He wanted to move his wounded finger as little as possible. Gray soon returned to his side and wrapped a bandage tightly around the sore fingertip. Bill cried all the way through it. At least Gray wasn’t going to let him get an infection.

Gray started to whistle as he returned to the food, leaving Bill to whimper and mewl on the floor. The smell of searing meat soon joined the vegetables. It would have been nice if Bill wasn’t so distracted by his throbbing injury.

“You brought this on yourself, Little Buddy,” Gray informed him. “I keep telling you that you’re never going to get away from here. Why do you keep making things hard on yourself? Of course, I don’t _really_ mind! You always make everything fun! Sometimes my days are so _boring_ , you know? I can always count on you to keep me entertained!”

Bill continued to sob into his knees.

He blocked out the sounds of their dinner being plated. He didn’t move until Gray forced him to stand and guided him to the table. Bill finally opened his red and puffy eyes to see a plate full of sliced pink and juicy meat with a generous helping of the sauteed vegetables. His treacherous mouth watered, despite everything.

“Eat up, Billy! You need it.” Gray prompted. He was already digging into his own plate. 

Bill picked up his fork.


	9. Chapter 9

Bill was laying on the couch, remote in his hand and a thin blanket draped over him. He didn’t pay much attention to the television. Daytime TV was as boring as always – bad enough to make any sick kid wish they had just gone to school. Bill never thought he would miss the place, but he craved the normalcy of his desk and notebooks and classmates.

The stress of being in the Neibolt house and what it’s owner put him through made Bill constantly ill. Every time his body started to heal or he let his guard down, Gray would do some new terrible thing to him – a usual mix of physical abuse and mental torture. Sometimes, Bill really had to dig deep to stay strong. He had to think of Georgie and Eddie and all the other kids who fell victim to Gray in order to keep from losing himself. He couldn’t let Gray win, he just couldn’t.

Gray had changed their routine this morning. He showed up in Bill’s room already dressed as Pennywise, the early morning light giving the silver fabric an eerie glow. Bill groaned as the blanket over his head was snatched away from him. 

“Busy day today, kiddo,” Gray informed him as he undid Bill’s ankle shackle. The boy was too weak to even bother with putting on the other chains. “Can’t have my little buddy staying up here alone for so long!”

Bill didn’t see how that was any different from usual, but he didn’t protest as Gray scooped him up and carried him downstairs. A new bolt with a chain was in the floor by the couch and Bill’s wrist was quickly secured to it. (It seemed they were all over the house now. Convenient for whenever Gray wanted to chain him up like a dog.) Gray left him with a banana and a bottle of water. Bill opted to save it for later and huddled under the moth-eaten wool Gray provided him with.

“Oh, and Billy?” Gray said. “If you’re not too busy watching those stupid cartoons this afternoon, maybe you could check out channel three around two o’clock!”

Bill gazed at his captor, suspicious. Since when did Gray care what he watched? “Sure, B-Bobby.”

Gray made a happy little noise and stroked Bill’s hair before leaving the house. The sound of the front door locking sounded like a cage being shut to Bill’s ears.

Bill spent the next few hours drifting in and out of sleep. His missing nail was only now starting to grow back and his body needed all the rest it could get to heal the injury. The wound ached for days and bled readily if not bandaged tight. It was a constant reminder of what happened when he defied Gray. At least it didn’t hurt unless Bill put pressure on the area.

He eventually ate his small breakfast before leaving the TV on a news station. Everything Gray did wasn’t usually on until the evenings, so Bill let the monotonous noise lull him into another light slumber. Sleeping time away was his favorite thing to do. He didn’t have the strength to do much else, and it wasn’t like he was ever in the mood to play.

Bill wondered what Stan and Richie were up to right now. Was Richie disrupting class? Was Stan doodling birds in the margins of his notebook? Bill hoped they were carrying on as normal. Looking for him would only lead them into Gray’s clutches. 

As much as Bill hoped otherwise, he knew they weren’t fine. How could they be, with two friends disappearing within weeks of each other? Bill wished he could let them know he was fine somehow, that they didn’t have to worry about Eddie’s well-being.

If they ever discovered Eddie’s remains, if he even had any, Bill hoped they wouldn’t be able to tell how he died. No one else should have to live with the horror of knowing Eddie was sliced up while he was still breathing. Thinking a wild animal got to him would be kinder. A wolf was easier to understand than Robert Gray. Mrs. Kaspbrak would probably dedicate her life to hunting all the predators around Derry. That is, if she wasn’t already mad with grief over her missing son.

Bill sometimes had fantasies about his friends coming to save him. (It had been awhile since he thought of his parents.) Richie and Stan would evade detention and chores and Henry Bowers and come to the Neibolt house for him. Gray would be in the middle of his usual shit and they would come busting in. Richie would hit Gray with a bat and Stan would go at him with a crowbar. Sometimes Beverly Marsh would be with them, and she would stab Gray through the head with a fire poker. After they wiped the floor with the clown, the police would come and take Gray away to be executed and the kids would all go home happy.

Had Bill always been this violent, or was Gray making him that way?

It was a silly scenario. No one knew to come here and Gray would have them disemboweled before they passed through the door. All the same, it soothed Bill enough to lull him to sleep.

 

After a fitful rest full of dreams of friends and rain the color red, Bill opened his eyes to see the time on the bottom of the TV screen. It was close to two. Should he turn the channel? Did Gray want him to see something?

Bill wanted to ignore the man’s request and drift off again, but the worry that he would be punished for disobeying won out over that. (He did _promise_ Bobby he would do it!) He sat up some and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders before switching the channel.

Channel number two was one reserved for public access, local things going on in town and small business owners wanting their fifteen minutes. Georgie had grown out of watching it a few years ago, but Bill recalled this time was reserved for the “Derry Children’s Hour”. The host sometimes changed, but it was always a group of the town’s youngsters being entertained by puppets or jugglers or magicians. Then they would all sit around and talk about their feelings or whatever.

Bill rolled his eyes as the theme music he loved as a small child assaulted is ears. Overly enthusiastic tune accompanied by singing children. Ugh, it made him want to plug his ears.

A group of kids sat on raised bleachers in the middle of what looked like a circus ring. Bill recognized a few from around town and Georgie’s school. A woman with dark hair and a conservative blue dress greeted them before welcoming the viewers.

“We have a very special guest today! Kids, what’s your favorite part of the circus?”

“I like popcorn!”

“Balloons!”

“Peanuts and elephants!”

“I like the clowns!”

“The clowns? Well, then you’ll especially love our guest! Everyone, give a big warm welcome to Pennywise the Dancing Clown!”

Bill’s jaw dropped open as Gray appeared on screen. All traces of the man’s hidden maliciousness were gone. His smile was genuine and his blue eyes were bright and warm. He held a large collection of red balloons in a gloved hand. 

What was Gray doing there? Had he been invited? Didn’t the producers know they were letting a snake into a nest of baby birds?

“Hello, kids! Does anyone want a balloon?”

For the next hour, Bill’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. Gray took up a good deal of the show, performing magic tricks and juggling and doing goofy dances and telling jokes. He even broke out an accordion at one point. Bill realized it was most of the tricks Gray had shown him over the past few months. Was he practicing his routine on Bill this whole time?

The kids liked Gray, and Bill realized what Gray was doing. Throughout the show, the clown would ask a kid their names, and that would lead to their school and their street and their friends – all that info given within less than a minute. Gray was there to hunt.

Why had Gray wanted him to see this? To mock him? To show off?

At the show’s end, Gray was sitting with the kids in the middle of the group, each arm around an unsuspecting future victim. The host said her closing statements and they all cheered as a hundred red balloons fell from the ceiling over them.

Bill turned the television off. He was feeling sick again. That whole thing was so...sinister. No one had any idea how dangerous _Pennywise_ really was. And sooner or late, they would pay for it.

How was it that Gray kept getting away with all this? Had no one made the connection to all the missing children with Gray yet? No wonder the man was so arrogant, so cocky. He’s been doing monstrous things for months now and the police had barely bothered with him.

Bill curled back up under his blanket. As tired as he still was, sleep didn’t come easily this time.

 

It was late afternoon when Gray returned home. He was still in costume, looking as pristine as he had been on TV. His entrance woke Bill from his dozing. Pennywise had been in his dream, and seeing the figure making a beeline for him in real life did nothing to calm his nerves.

“Little Buddy!” Gray flopped down at the end of the couch. Bill pulled his legs up just in time to avoid them being sat on. “What did you do today?”

“I was s-sleeping,” he grumbled, unwilling to immediately give Gray any satisfaction.

The clown grinned and tapped Bill’s foot with a long finger. “And…?”

Damn it. “I saw y-you on TV,” Bill admitted. “What w-were you doing t-there?”

Gray shrugged, as if the whole event meant nothing to him. “They needed someone to entertain the local lambs for a day, and they decided to give me a call. They payed me double what my usual clients do. So what did you think of my performance, Billy boy?”

“You did t-the s-s-same stuff you always do,” Bill said.

“Aww, weren’t you amused Billy? All those kiddos liked me!”

“Stay away from them!” Bill spat. 

Gray only laughed. “How can I pass up such willing prey? They were all sooo eager to make friends with ol’ Pennywise! They told me all about themselves, as if the happy clown was going to come and save them from their shitty lives! Well, I’ll pay them all a visit someday. Oh, can you imagine what their faces will look like when the clown they loved turns them into a juicy steak? They’ll be so afraid, so delicious!” He licked his lips, smearing the ruby paint.

Bill’s stomach chose that moment to growl. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, and the mention of food reminded it of that. Bill turned his face away. He still couldn’t believe that he craved human meat.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you, Little Buddy? Bobby’ll be riiight back with something for you!”

Bill watched as Gray sauntered off to the kitchen, the tiny jingling bells on his costume leaving an eerie echo. Which one of those kids would they end up eating first? Would Bill still be alive by the time Gray got to them?

Gray soon returned with, to Bill’s great relief, a bowl of lukewarm chicken soup. He sipped at the broth while Gray reclaimed the remote and flipped through the channels, eventually settling on a nature documentary.

“Don’t you t-think you-re at-t-tracting too much attention on yourself?” Bill asked. Not that he was concerned for Gray’s safety, but he was curious.

Gray looked away from a pride of lions chowing down on a wildebeest to answer him. “Not at all! Do you think I would have gone on that stupid show if I thought even one person in this stupid town payed attention? No one here cares about missing kids here after a few days. All the ones I met today were only there because mommy and daddy were trying to get them out of the house for awhile. I doubt anyone but them will even remember me.”

Bill turned back to his bowl. So it was as he thought. No one in this fucking town cares and Gray could get away with anything.

“Ooh, that reminds me! Wait right here, Billy!”

Bill quickly finished his dinner while Gray was gone. Who knew what was about to happen? He forced himself to stay calm so the soup wouldn’t come back up.

The clown returned with a small box. “Alright, Little Buddy, close your eyes!”

What? Bill refused to budge until Gray waved a warning finger at him. Bill braced himself and complied with the odd request. His body stayed tense, braced for pain.

Something soft brushed against his cheek, leaving it feeling sticky. 

“W-What are you -?”

“Shh.”

The sensation spread over his forehead, his other cheek, his chin, and down his neck. Something was definitely being put onto him. As it dried, it felt tight and uncomfortable.

Something fluffy and soft then touched the apples of his cheeks. It swirled around briefly there and then went around his eyes.

It was followed by a thin brush that carefully moved over his lips. It then went up his cheek and over his eyelid, forming a line. The same happened to the other side. It finished by dancing over the bottom of his nose – an extremely itchy process.

“Okay, Billy, open up!”

Bill opened his eyes and couldn’t believe what he saw. He was staring at a mirror Gray was holding up. It took him a few moments to recognize his reflection. Gray had painted his face!

The make-up was done in the same style as Pennywise’s. The red was replaced with a sapphire blue, and the powder on his cheeks and eyes was a silvery gray. 

“Do you like it, Little Buddy? I thought that color would suit you!”

“Why d-did you d-do t-this?” Bill asked. What game was his captor playing at now?

“For fun, mostly! I got the idea earlier today. You know they made me carry all my stuff around myself? All those balloons and instruments, and props! And I thought it would be great if I had an assistant for that, and who would be better than my little buddy! Wouldn’t that be funny, Billy, if you and me went into business together? Oh, but you would make such a saaad clown! Nobody wants that nowadays! Not that I’m going to ever let you out of here to do that. But it’s a nice dream isn’t it?...Hey, maybe if you behave -”

Bill tuned out Gray’s rambling to study his reflection. He learned in art class that blue represented sadness. The color was all over his face, showing his inner feelings as if his tears never quite did the trick. He wanted this paint off now. He felt that it was somehow tying him to the man. But Gray was still busy admiring his artwork, and Bill would have to wait.

Being stuck in this house was better than being Gray’s lackey, at least.


	10. Chapter 10

Bill woke to the sound of screams.

He thought it was part of his dream at first. Nightmares were no stranger to him these days. Bill struggled to open his heavy eyelids and make out his surroundings in the early morning light. It couldn’t have been too long after sunrise. 

Bill’s first reaction was to lay back down and ignore this. His sleep-addled brain wasn’t ready to deal with Gray and his fuckery yet. But as soon as he curled back up in the blanket, the cries and whimpers grew louder and more desperate, and the house echoed with Gray’s laughter.

Bill sat back up, adrenaline wiping away all drowsiness. What was wrong with him? What if someone just laid there and slept while Georgie was calling for help?

Anxiety grew in Bill’s stomach as footsteps approached the door. Gray flung it open in an excited flourish. The man’s hair was unkempt, in contrast to its usual styled neatness. Small flecks of blood already stained his white shirt. The toothy, manic grin didn’t promise anything good.

“Rise and shine, Little Buddy!” he called, as if Bill wasn’t clearly awake. “I need you to come downstairs with me now.”

“W-What’s going on?” Bill asked.

Gray unlocked Bill’s chains and seized his wrist, yanking the boy to his feet. “Come and see!”

Bill whimpered as he practically dragged down the stairs. Bill was tall for his age, but Gray was tall for an adult, and it was a struggle to keep up with the man’s long stride. 

The screams only became more gut-wrenching to hear as they neared the source. When they entered the kitchen, Bill immediately spotted the young girl on the floor. Bill didn’t recognize her, which was a small relief, but she did look to be around his age. Her face was hidden by a curtain of mousy hair, and her left leg was twisted. Bill almost retched when he saw the bone poking out.

“I wasn’t even planning on hunting today, but Little Miss here presented the perfect opportunity! Standing all alone by the bus stop...What were you doing? Skipping school?”

“No!” she cried. “I was trying to leave this godforsaken town! Let me go!” Her dark eyes landed on Bill. “Help me!”

Bill reached toward the girl, wanting to do something for her. Gray gave his wrist a light slap. “No, no, Billy boy. You’re here to help _me_.”

“What do y-you mean?”

Gray laughed. “We eat the same food, don’t we? I thought it’s time you had a part in the kill.”

Bill took a step back. “No. _No!_ You can’t m-make me – I wont!”

“It’ll be easy, Billy,” Gray promised. “The lamb is all ready for slaughter. You just have to deliver the final blow. Make it quick, if you want! Cut her throat, stab her in the heart. I won’t even make you do any of the hard work this time!”

The girl began to sob anew.

Bill had to get out of here. His already fucked up brain couldn’t handle this situation. It was bad enough when Bill had to handle dead meat. He wouldn’t kill someone for Gray. He wouldn’t! 

Gray retrieved a butcher knife from a drawer. “Nice and sharp, see? I’ll even guide your hand if you want, Little Buddy.”

Bill shook his head and took a step back. The shining metal gleamed in the morning light, making its presence seem more imposing. It seemed to mock him, threatening to take away the last bit of innocence he had.

Gray waved it impatiently. “Come here and take it, Billy.”

“No, please!” The girl’s hair fell away from her face, allowing Bill to see her terrified expression. He couldn’t hurt her if his life depended on it!

“Come on, Billy!”

Bill realized he wasn’t chained in any way, and a split second later he was bolting out of the room. Gray yelled in frustration and was quickly after him. Bill ran fast and mindlessly. Where to go, where to go? 

He ducked around furniture and went in circles to throw off Gray. Bill was suddenly grateful that the man had him clean this damned place. Who knew what he could have stepped on by now.

Gray lunged forward and almost caught his arm. Bill circled around and ran back toward the kitchen. It was fast enough to catch the man off guard and buy him a few extra moments. Bill sprinted back through the kitchen and made it to the basement door, slamming it behind him. He scanned the area quickly. There was a metal bar nearby, probably left by Gray when he sealed this room from possible escape. Bill propped it against the door knob, just in time to keep Gray from barging in. 

As the man roared in anger, Bill charged down the stairs to find something stronger to barricade the door. He remembered that there was several heavy things down here...There! That rocking chair! Many of the items that were near the windows had been pushed away from them and closer to the door. Bill used all his adrenaline and panic to haul the thing up the stairs. It was surprisingly lightweight, which made it easy to get the thing to the door, but it did make Bill worry that it wouldn’t hold off Gray for long.

Okay, now what? Bill couldn’t hide down here forever. The boarded up windows provided very little light. Hiding in the dark would only last a few minutes when Gray finally broke in here. 

Bill flinched with every hard bang against the door. Gray was letting out a splew of colorful curses, accompanied by a few threats of bodily harm. This was a terrible idea. Bill was going to end up joining that girl in the kitchen.

His eyes drifted to the center of the room. Could he...could he escape down the well? A wave of excitement came over him. Of course! That thing had to lead to somewhere. Why didn’t he think of that before?

Bill rushed over to the crumbling stone fixture. Shit, it was too dark to see how deep it was. Bill would end up killing himself if he wasn’t careful.

Luck must have been on his side for once, for a beam of light appeared through a crack in the wood and landed on the floor. There, next to a stuffed turtle, was his flashlight! He had forgotten all about it when Eddie -

Bill couldn’t think about that now.

He rushed across the room, paying no heed to the soiled and torn clothes under his feet. He would need to focus if he wanted out of this. He nearly tripped a she bent down to grasp his prize. Bill switched it on and nearly cried with relied when it worked.

He swung back around to the well. The room echoed with Gray’s shouts. He had to hurry!

In a brief fit of morbid curiosity, Bill glanced toward the ceiling. To his surprise, there were only half as many body parts “floating” above him. How much of it had Gray (and himself) devoured? Gray must be planning on replenishing his meat supply soon. No wonder he went on that stupid kids’ show.

The well went down very deep. The end was so far that Bill couldn’t even see the bottom. Fuck fuck fuck. What now? Maybe he could scale down the sides. The stones were too deeply set for him to get a grip on them, and the walls were too far apart to stretch out his limbs and touch them.

He shined the light around frantically and finally noticed the rope attached on the inside. Quickly, he transferred the flashlight to his mouth and swung his legs over the mouth of the well. The rope looked old and was rough on his hands, but it held firm as Bill began to climb his way down it. After a moment, he took the flashlight out of his mouth and gripped the rope with one hand. He weighed so little these days that it was easy to support himself with one arm.

Bill shined the light down. How deep was this damned thing? He still couldn’t tell where it ended. Knowing Neibolt house, it probably lead straight to Hell. 

He continued down a few more feet. In the side of well was a large hole, big enough to crawl into. Bill peered into it. It actually lead to somewhere. It was a small tunnel that ended in another room. Bill only hesitated a moment before crawling in. It couldn’t lead to anywhere worse than a madman’s murder basement. He estimated how long it would take to reach the end and then turned off the light. A short moment later, he heard the door finally break open. 

_“Billy! Come out now!”_

Bill shuffled forward as fast as he could without making too much noise. He could still hear Gray tearing around the basement as he neared his destination. A foul odor fit his nose. Ugh, what was that?

He turned the flashlight back on once he was sure Gray wasn’t near the well. The end of this path lead to another, horizontal tunnel. As Bill entered it and went further, the smell became worse and he could hear something dripping. He shined the light around and found himself in a large room made of metal and cement. Water ran over the floor and dripped from pipes. It didn’t take Bill long to realize he was in the sewer. 

Bill’s dad worked for the hydroelectric company and had been underground many times for work. He told Bill and Georgie that the sewer was a long maze of tunnels that went down even further into the old mine shafts. Someone could hide down here for years and not be found. 

Bill was suddenly hopeful for the first time in a long while. There were so may ways out of here. Hell, he and his friends saw one opening at the Barrens where they liked to hang out. This could be his chance to escape for good. All he had to do was keep going until he found a way back to civilization. Bill could be home and have the police after Gray in no time!

He took off into the nearest open grate he could find. So many of them were tightly closed. That had to mean this one was an exit, right? The thick scent of gray water nearly choked him, but he kept pushing forward. He did his best to ignore the sensation of it on his bare feet. What if he got one of those staph infections that Eddie was always going on about?

The water was shallow enough that Bill could jog through it. The loud splashing echoed around, and he couldn’t seem to keep his light steady. If someone else was down here, it wouldn’t be hard to spot Bill. Hey, what if Dad was down here with a work crew? Bill nearly cried at the thought of seeing his father after these long months. Bill was willing to forget how cold they were after Georgie disappeared. Bill knew his parents still loved him. They were just in mourning, and things would be better once Bill came home. 

This tunnel lead to several others. Bill tried to guess which was the best one to go down. The one on the left and right sides had a faster stream, and Bill thought he could see the water become browner a few feet down. Nope, not that one. The middle one seemed the safest bet. The water went up his calves but at least it wasn’t any dirtier. Okay, this was gross, but at least he was getting close to freedom.

He went on like that for awhile. Bill had no way of telling if he was approaching an exit or only going deeper underground. It wasn’t like anyone left a map down here for his convenience. He did his best to avoid the more disgusting areas. He could only imagine Stan and Richie’s expressions when he told them about this adventure. Stan would certainly be put off. And Richie would laugh and make some joke. His mother would make him shower for a whole day, and Bill would be glad for it.

Bill was about to pass through a deeper pool of water when he received his second terrible shock for the day. To his horror, the half-decayed head of a child floated to the top and fixed its lifeless gaze on Bill. He scrambled back and nearly lost his balance. More parts followed. Mostly grotesquely white skulls, accompanied by rotten limbs and torn clothing. Was this where Gray dumped the parts he didn’t want? But if that was correct -

As if on cue, Gray’s terrible laugh came from somewhere close to him. Bill was sure his heart stopped dead for a moment. Damn it! Had he been following Gray’s familiar pathways this whole time?

He pushed aside his revulsion and took off through the water, sending every long dead child a silent apology. He had to get out now!

“Billy boy!” came Gray’s taunting call. “Are you down here?”

Bill’s first instinct was to turn off his light and stay still so nothing would attract Gray to his location. But the man was an expert hunter and Bill would surely be caught if he stayed a sitting duck. He kept going, and Gray’s voice grew a bit fainter. Just keep going, just keep going, just keep going…

At first, Bill thought he was doing a good job at evading his captor. Gray would get closer and then loose Bill’s scent. After this happened three times, Bill began to wonder if the man was playing cat and mouse with him. It would be quiet for a few minutes and then a gleeful cackle would pierce the air. The man continued to call after him.

“Do you think you can hide down here forever, Billy? I know this sewer better than my apartment! I bet you thought you were really clever getting down here. But you should know by now that no one escapes me! I’m not really in the mood for games right now, Little Buddy, so if you just let me catch you I’ll go easy on you. Promise! Come on, I don’t want my new catch to get too lonely back at the house. Little Buddy? Little Buddy! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Bobby’s going to catch you!”

Finally, finally, Bill saw a light up ahead. Real daylight like he hadn’t seen in months! Oh Lord, the actual light at the end of the tunnel!

“Little Buddy!”

He used the last of his energy to surge forward, every thought telling him that he would be safe if he could just make it out of here. The first thing he noticed was that it was a clear, sunny day outside. Blue skies and green trees. The second thing was that the exit was covered by a locked grate. He couldn’t hold back a dismayed cry as he laid eyes on it. No no no! How could this be happening? Couldn’t he catch a break just this once?

“Billy! Was that you?”

Gray was coming.

There was no way to turn back now. All Bill could do was pull and tug at the rusty bars and hope they came loose. The grime coating them made it hard to get a grip, and his already rope-burnt hands stung. 

Gray began to whistle a cheerful tune, and Bill continued to struggle as the noise got closer and closer. He wanted to shout. What if someone was nearby? Even if they caught a glimpse of him, that was something the police could go on.

Gray’s hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around, slamming him back into the grate. Bill grunted in pain but refused to cry as he looked up into the man’s smiling face. 

“Oh Billy, Billy, _Billy _. Did you really think you could get away that easy?”__

__“Fuck you,” was all Bill said._ _

__Gray’s eyes hardened. He bent down and punched Bill, hard, in the stomach. “When are you going to learn, Billy?”_ _

__Bill doubled over and would have fallen if Gray didn’t catch him and prop him back up against the dirty metal. The whistling resumed as the man continued his assault. A fist came down on Bill’s nose, mouth, ear, neck, chest. Gray wasn’t holding back. Bill’s bottom lip was already split. He cried out as he felt his nose pop. Gray pulled him forward as rammed him back into the grate several times. Tears sprung from Bill’s eyes as his head banged against the bars. It wasn’t long before he was seeing dark spots._ _

__Thankfully, Gray didn’t dish out this punishment for too long. Bill was vaguely aware of something binding his wrist together before he was pushed forward._ _

__“Walk.”_ _

__Bill went at a slow pace, guided by Gray’s hands on his shoulders. He was in too much pain to focus on where they were going. He had gotten somewhat used to the stench of the sewer. Filthy water still covered his feet. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth and began to dribble down his chin. Being stuck in the closet was nothing compared to this. Bill would sell his soul for a shower right now._ _

__“I wasn’t ready to play tag today, you know. But hey, you got my blood pumping, Billy! My stomach’s growling, too! I can’t wait to finally have breakfast!”_ _

__It didn’t seem too long before they stopped. Bill’s vision cleared enough to see they were in a smaller area with only a few leaking pipes. The bottom of the well rose from the ground. A large hole was carved into the side._ _

__“Get in.” Gray helped guide Bill into the space and followed right behind him. A large wooden box rested on the stone floor. One end of a rope was attached to the inside of it and the other dangled down a foot above it._ _

__Gray ushered Bill inside before climbing in himself. The tall man grasped the dangling rope and pulled on it. Bill released a small gasp as the box began to rise. Was the rope he climbed down attached to a pulley rig? Well, that would have been nice to know. Too bad he didn’t have time to stop and observe things._ _

__Gray kept his gaze fixed on Bill the whole journey up. That damned toothy grin was amused and a little...proud? Bill felt like he was a naughty pet who had done something both annoying and endearing. Oh, wait. That’s probably exactly what he was to Gray. Bill kept his own eyes lowered to his cuffed hands. Little drops of blood continued to stain his already ruined clothes._ _

__Gray helped Bill climb out when they reached the mouth of the well. Back here again, despite all his efforts. Bill at least got points for trying, right?_ _

__“Take your clothes off, Little Buddy,” Gray said. “I don’t want them to contaminate the meat.”_ _

__“What? Bobby -” Bill had nearly forgotten about the girl upstairs._ _

__Gray took off the handcuffs. When Bill didn’t move, he pulled out the box cutter. “Do you really want me to cut them off for you?”_ _

__Bill didn’t trust the man not to purposely cut him. He shook his head and began to peel away the ruined fabric. Gray walked over to a corner of the room._ _

__Bill kept his head down as he stood naked and fearful among dead children and their belongings. What was going to happen now?_ _

__A cold spray of water hit him. Gray had emerged with a water hose and was giving Bill an impromptu bath with it. “No point in getting too clean right now. This will do the job for now.”_ _

__Bill stood still as the water ran over him. This was humiliating but at least the worst of the sewage and blood was leaving his skin._ _

__Gray laughed at him, naturally. “You look like a drowned rat!”_ _

__So says the man with large buckteeth._ _

__Gray turned off the water after a good amount of the grime was off Bill. He shook his limbs and head a little to expel the excess water. Gray rummaged around in a pile of old clothing. He tossed Bill a pair of shorts. “Put those on. Be happy you’re even getting that.”_ _

__Bill examined the cloth. The khaki material was a little worn and had small patches of blood on the bottom. He gulped and gagged and slid them on anyway. Anything was better than being naked._ _

__Gray pushed him toward the stairs. Bill shuddered before making his way up, Gay humming all the while. His eyes began to blur with tears. Bill knew what was about to happen._ _

__The girl wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, but the trail of blood she left and the sound of her weakened squeals made her easy to find. She was crumpled in front of the locked door, pawing at the doorknob and scratching helplessly at the wood. Gray seized her by the ankle on her broken leg and dragged her back, kicking and screaming into the kitchen. Bill was full on crying now. Why was he so useless?_ _

__Gray pushed him down so he was kneeling before the girl. “I really should make you do all the carving after that stunt you pulled. But I’m feeling generous so I'll save all that fun for myself. But you, Little Buddy,” the knife was pressed into his hand and Gray held it there firmly, “are going to finish her.”_ _

__“B-B-Bobby please d-do-don’t pl-please d-don’t-”_ _

__Gray lifted Bill’s hand and used it to send the blade plunging through the girl’s jugular. She choked as blood came flooding out of her wound. Her body shook and she made little gasping noises before finally going limp. Her blank eyes were fixed on Bill, accusing him and judging him. Bill’s felt numb, like his mind was refusing to process what just happened._ _

__“That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Now, watch what I do next, Billy boy. Carving an animal is a valuable skill to know!”_ _


	11. Chapter 11

The first step is to let the blood drain out. Blood was tasty and beautiful and warm, but it made too big a mess sometimes. If not collected for later consumption, it could mopped up later and dumped in the sink.

The second step is to get the skin off. A thin and sharp knife was best for that. You had to be careful to peel it away without harming the muscle it was protecting. It was usually thick and took some time to cook, so it was only optional to eat. The second step was to clean out the unwanted organs. The heart was a muscle and would seize up after the blood stopped pumping, and was best eaten while it was fresh. If it wouldn’t be cooked the same day as it was harvesting, it should go straight into the fridge. The rest didn’t have to be rushed. Almost every part of an animal was edible, really. Once the ribcage was properly cracked with the help of a good saw, the real fun could begin.

The intestines were palatable enough if one was in the mood for them, but they required a lot of cleaning and were hard to handle. If they aren’t desired from a kill, then they could be disposed of in the junkyard or the woods, where all sorts of hungry animals were waiting for a snack. 

Kidneys, liver, spleen, pancreas, tongue, and brain were all tightly wrapped in plastic or foil and stored away in the freezer.

Once the excess fat was removed, the meat was ready to “float” in the basement. It was best to leave it in large pieces. Saws and cleavers and razor sharp butcher knives divided leg from knee, thigh from joint, arm from elbow and shoulder from socket. 

Bones could be kept to make a broth. Hair could be sold to the little old lady in her beauty salon downtown who didn’t ask questions. Clothes and plastic jewelry and toys would all go to the basement with the rest of the treasure trove.

Everything else was disposed of in the sewers.

 

Bill sat closely against Gray on the couch. Bill had drawn his knees up his chest and was holding onto his legs tightly. His head rested against Bobby’s chest. Bill wished, for once, that the man was wearing his clown costume – Bill wanted to hide his face in the soft ruffled collar. 

Gray was allowing the close contact. A long arm was wrapped around Bill’s shoulders and cold fingers occasionally scratched at his hair. It made Bill feel like a pet but he was desperate for any kind of comfort. Gray was watching some game show and commented loudly and often about how stupid the contestants were. Bill didn’t really focus on any of it. He couldn’t get the events of yesterday out of his mind.

After the girl bled out, Bill was too horrified to do anything but sit on the floor and watch as Gray butchered her. The man worked slowly as he described to Bill what he was doing. Bill had never seen Gray work with such precision before. True, the only thing kid he saw murdered before this was Eddie, and he was unconscious through most of that, but Bill had heard Gray attacking plenty of victims. It sounded like a wild animal was feasting on them while they still breathed.

Bobby’s instructions played over in Bill’s mind. Gray talked about the mutilated corpse like it belonged to a pig and not a human girl. That must be what everyone really was to Bobby: a pig waiting to be slaughtered.

And now Bill was compliant in Gray’s crimes. Not only had he consumed the flesh of another human being, Bill was now responsible for killing one. How could he ever face his family or friends again? It didn’t matter that Gray literally forced his hand. Bill still held the knife that sliced through the girl’s neck. Did Bill ever deserve to walk freely around Derry again after this? He saw the girl’s frightened face every time he closed his eyes. Bobby was cooking her ribs tonight. No, no one should have Bill Denbrough around them any more then they should have Robert Gray.

Bill sniffled and leaned further against Bobby. He had been crying on and off the past few hours. It was a wonder the man hadn’t complained about all the tear stains on his shirt.

Gray waited until a commercial to address him. “What are you still crying for, Little Buddy?”

What did Gray think? Bill struggled to answer through his quivering jaw. “I-it...y-y-you...ca-a-an’t...”

“Shh.” Bobby pushed Bill a little away so they could look at each other properly. “And here I thought you were used to this by now.” His tone was oddly gentle. Bill wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Bill only shook his head in response. He knew he wasn’t calm enough to articulate words.

Bobby hummed and wiped the remaining tears of Bill’s face. “Billy, when you killed that girl, did it feel good?”

Bill recoiled as far as Gray’s grip would allow. What kind of fucked up question was that? “No! N-n-no!”

“Oh?” Gray’s lips stretched into a mischievous grin. “I’m sure it was shocking for a little kid like you...but didn’t you feel powerful? Didn’t having control over someone’s life make you feel like king of the world? Wasn’t taking it all away from them make you just all warm and fuzzy on the inside?” 

Bill whimpered and turned his head away. He felt like the scum of the Earth. He felt like he deserved to die himself. How could hurting someone else for the sake of it ever make him happy?

“Maybe it’s an _acquired_ taste,” Gray mused. He turned Bill back towards him. “You just have to do it more before you learn to like it!”

Bill wanted this conversation to stop now. He didn’t like what Gray was implying one bit. It was hard enough to watch Gray cut someone up. Was he going to make Bill do it himself next time? How long before Gray started to make Bill do everything from the slaughter to cooking, just for the sake of his own amusement?

Bill’s eyes began to sting yet again with tears. He lunged forward to bury his face against Bobby’s neck. His tattered pride couldn’t stand having the sadistic man see him cry again.

Bobby giggled softly and wrapped his captive in a loose hug. “Poor little Billy boy.”

They were silent for a while. The game show ended and Gray flipped through channels. Bill sobbed quietly, and the occasional whine he let out made Gray laugh. 

Really, how much more of Bill’s mind was left? He hadn’t gone completely insane yet...at least he didn’t think so. He was still holding onto himself. He still knew that what Gray did was wrong. That had to count for something. After the afternoon news came and went, Bill calmed down enough to stop blubbering and relax against Gray’s cool skin.

“Can you tell what fear taste like, Little Buddy?” 

The question shocked Bill. He pulled away from Bobby and scooted back to another cushion. Gray watched him, grinning like a shark. “What?”

“ _Fear_ ,” Gray repeated. “It’s delicious. It _salts_ the meat. Can’t you tell, Billy? Doesn’t fearful flesh tastes so much better?”

Bill’s immediate response was to deny this, but something made him pause. The meat Gray provided him with was probably the best he’d ever tasted, God forgive him. It wasn’t even that he was so desperately hungry. Before Bill learned where it came from, he would spend all day craving Bobby’s cooking. And, despite his revulsion, it did still taste good.

“No,” he said anyway. “I don’t know w-w-what you’re t-talking about.”

“Liar.” Gray giggled and tapped his nose. “But that’s alright. You have time to accept it. Not everyone sees things my way, I know.”

“I won’t!” Bill snapped. He was glad he still had the ability. 

Bobby gave him the indulgent _I-know-better-than-this-stubborn-child_ smile that Bill often got from his parents when he was younger. “You will.”

“...Bastard.” Bill didn’t have much to fight with besides verbal assaults.

“My parents were happily married, Little Buddy. Well, maybe. I don’t remember them much.” Gray paused a moment. “How do you think your folks are doing, Billy?”

“What? I do-don’t know.” How would any couple who lost both their children be doing? Was it worse that they didn’t know what happened to either him or Georgie? Gray could have at least left some clue of Georgie’s death lying around town so the Denbroughs could have closure with their younger son.

“I’ve seen them around town,” Gray said. “Were they always so boring? All they do is buy groceries and go to work and avoid looking at missing posters. Hmph, they don’t care about other children as much as they don’t care about you!”

“Fuck you.” Gray’s description of his parents affected Bill, and the insult came out weak. He was glad to hear that they were functioning. Before Gray entered their lives, the Denbroughs were a happy, active family. Sure, his parents were maybe a little distant, but Bill never felt unloved or unhappy with them. To hear that they weren’t doing much anymore was disheartening. 

“I wonder how long before they snap and leave town? Maybe they’ll get a divorce first and move to different countries.” The thought of further tragedy in Bill’s family was apparently very funny to Gray. No surprise there.

Bill threw a weak punch, which was easily caught. Gray let out that stupid clown laugh and pushed Bill back. Bill huffed and stared the man down for a moment. “...They wouldn’t leave Derry.”

“Oh, and why not? They don’t have anything keeping them together anymore. Especially not a pair of brats! No, they’ll soon realize that and get to packing! They’ll leave you right here with me, Billy!”

“No, they won’t! They w-wouldn’t! They don’t know I’m h-h-here. They wouldn’t leave me!” Bill protested. 

“But they will,” Bobby insisted. “I’m all you’ve got, Billy!”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Damn it. The tears were back. 

“It’s up to you, Little Buddy,” Gray said. “It’s not too late for you to float with the others, but it doesn’t have to be that way. If you just stay here and do what I tell you, you don’t have to return to the weeds until you’re an old man. All I want you to do is behave. If you do that, I won’t ever hurt you again, Billy. I promise!”

Bill wanted to run back up to his room and hide under his blankets. Of course Bill would never obey or respect Gray willingly. The mere thought made him sick.

“Just think about it.” Gray switched the TV off and grabbed Bill’s hand. “Come on, it’s dinner time.”

 

The funeral of Sonia Kaspbrak was a small event. The difficult woman did have a few close friends along with her sisters to mourn her, but many of the townspeople hadn’t been overly fond of her. 

The whole situation was a tragedy. The woman’s son had been missing for a few months now. Mrs. Kaspbrak buried her husband when their Eddie was only five years old. The woman made a reputation for herself of being fiercely overprotective of the boy, often making a nuisance of herself to his teachers and doctors. Eddie was all she had, really.

Sonia was easily the largest woman in town. That’s another thing she was infamous for. Bad dietary habits combined with the constant stress of looking for her lost son finally took it’s toll on her. She called the police station at least ten times a day for updates ever since Eddie disappeared, so when there was radio silence from her for a few days in a row the police went to her home to conduct a welfare check.

They could smell her body before they saw it. The woman had collapsed in her living room, dead of a heart attack. (It was long-overdue, if one asked her doctors.) A picture of Sonia and her son was lying nearby her corpse.

They buried her on a weekday, and Stan’s parents let him skip school to attend. It was the closest thing to Eddie’s funeral that he would probably ever get. It was odd how lax his normally strict father had been ever since Bill and Eddie disappeared. Stan was a sensitive kid and his grief over his missing friends showed. He was still expected to learn his Torah and do his chores, but his parents gave him space and spoke to him in soft tones. When Stan was really down, his dad would gift him with a new ornithology book or extra allowance money. The support was appreciated, but it didn’t make things any better.

Richie’s parents were the same. Richie became angry instead of sad. He acted out more in school and was almost suspended twice. The Toziers did their best to control him, but how did one deal with this kind of situation? The best they could do was calm their son when he lashed out and get him to talk about his feelings. 

Stan and Richie had never felt so helpless. Missing posters didn’t work. Asking people to keep looking didn’t work. It seemed that no one in Derry cared. Stan realized that this was how the world really worked. No one was safe, and yo were lucky if you had someone there to help you.

“My parents are sending me to a therapist,” Richie grumbled. They were seated on a stone bench a little bit away from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s new headstone.

Stan nodded. “And how does that make you feel?”

The small joke made Richie grin. “I don’t know. I’m pissed that I have to go see a shrink, but I guess it couldn’t hurt.” 

Stan knew that Richie blamed himself for their friends’ disappearances. Richie thought he should have been there more for Bill after what happened with his little brother. It was his idea to split up and search for him, which led to Eddie vanishing. It was hard to see the wise-cracking Trashmouth Tozier turn into such a melancholy boy.

“We’re not giving up on them,” Stan said. “I know they’re still out there.”

“I don’t think Bill’s parents are looking for him anymore,” Richie said. “What’s Eddie gonna do when he finds out about his mom?” He choked on the last few words.

Stan turned his gaze back to the small mourning party. His parents were talking to Richie’s mom in low tones. Two fat woman were crying loudly into soiled handkerchiefs. A little ways from them, a tall ginger-haired man was watching the group. Even from this distance, Stan could see that he was smiling. No one else seemed to notice him.

“Who is that guy?” he asked. “What the hell is he laughing about?”

Richie turned to look. “Hey...I think I’ve seen that guy before!”

“Where?”

“It was on one of the days we were handing out fliers downtown,” Richie said. “I handed him a few. Dude, that guy gave me the creeps. What’s he doing here?”

As if the man could tell he'd been noticed, he swiftly walked away from the group. Stan watched as he made his way to the parking lot and climbed into a little yellow car.

Richie was right. Something about the stranger was very off-putting to Stan. There was also something a little familiar. “Want to come to the library with me after school Friday, Richie? I got something I want to talk about.”

"Like what?" Richie took off his glasses and rubbed them against his black tie.

"It's probably nothing, but I think I just thought of a new lead."


	12. Chapter 12

The Derry Public Library was not a place Richie Tozier often went willingly. He only dragged himself through its doors when he really needed to focus on some homework. Not that he had anything against books – it was just that he thought there were a hundred other things to do and see than a musty old building full of old people and fifty year old newspapers. Besides, weren’t comic books so much easier to get through?

“Alright, Stan, what’s up? I’ve been in suspense ever since the funeral.” They came here right after school and settled at a secluded table toward the back. Far away from the stern librarian’s watchful eye. Richie knew from experience as long as they kept it down, they wouldn’t be bothered.

Stan nervously glanced at his watch. “My parents say I need to be home in an hour.” The town curfew was seven in the evening, but Stan’s parents were just as anal as him sometimes. It wasn’t like kids were disappearing left and right all over town or anything.

“So spit it out!” Riche was impatient to hear his friend’s theory. He would follow any lead that helped them find Eddie And Bill.

Stan shot him a look before continuing. “Okay, you remember that creepy ginger guy we saw?”

Something about the man’s gangly limbs and coloring reminded Richie of a clown. He hated clowns. “Yeah, what about him?”

“Have you ever seen him around before?” Stan asked. He looked around nervously, as if he thought the man was watching them from behind one of the many bookshelves. “I mean, before things started getting weird around this place?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve shaken hands with everyone in town.” Richie paused for a moment. “But...no, he didn’t look familiar. I think we’d remember if we saw Ronald McDonald’s inbred nephew walking around before.”

“So don’t you think that’s a weird coincidence?” Stan said. “Kids start disappearing around town when this stranger shows up?”

“You think Creepy Ginger took Bill and Eddie?” Richie shuddered at the thought of being close to that tall weirdo for longer than was necessary. There was something just _wrong_ about him to Richie. The same sense of wrongness he felt when he saw blood or clowns or Patrick Hockstetter.

“It’s possible,” Stan insisted. “Look, we’ve lived here our whole lives and we’ve seen everyone in town. And until that weirdo showed up, there haven’t been large amounts of kids going missing.”

Richie shrugged. “I mean, I guess. The guy was weird enough to watch a funeral. The next step is definitely child abduction. Right after selling some Happy Meals.”

Stan glared at him. “Be serious for once!”

“I am!” Richie said. “You know how bad I want to find Bill and Eddie! I know you want that, too. But, come on, Stan, where have we not looked? Who have we not asked? It’s like they just fucking vanished off the face of the Earth!”

“So, what? Are you giving up on them, Richie?” Stan’s voice was colored with disbelief. Richie definitely had cowardly tendencies but he was also extremely loyal.

“No, I...I’m just tired of looking and not finding anything. We don’t know anything about this guy. Not his name, not where he lives, not his criminal record. Describing Creepy Ginger as, well, a creepy ginger isn’t going to help us find him.” Fuck it all, since when was he the voice of reason?

“Okay, so we’ll just keep asking around. At least we have something to go on now. Someone in town has to know who he is,” Stan said.

“And what if he is a – a pervert serial killer? What if we end up next on his list?” Being murdered was on the bottom five of Richie’s Coolest Ways To Die list.

Stan faltered at that. Were they risking their own lives to save their friends? “Then we come prepared. Bring knives and rocks and matches. Whatever we can find. If this guy tries anything then we’ll be ready.”

“Or we might fucking die!” Richie groaned. “I could really use a smoke right now.” 

“Get away from our table and I’ll give you one.”

Stan and Richie looked up to see who had spoken.

To their surprise, it was Beverly Marsh, a girl in their class. With her was the fat new kid, Ben Hanscom, and...the home school kid? Richie didn’t know that Mike Hanlon had any friends in town.

Ben fidgeted. “Bev, they’re already settled here. Let’s go sit somewhere else.”

“No, we always sit here!” Beverly protested. “I thought you said you could always study better at this spot.”

“It’s not that big a deal -”

“Yeah, we’re trying to have a very serious conversation here!” Richie snapped. “So if you don’t mind fucking off -”

“Hey, shut your mouth, four eyes!”

“You kids!” The librarian had enough of their raised voices and came stomping over. “As I’ve told most of you time and time again, the library is a place to be quiet! If you insist on causing this ruckus, I’ll have to ask you to leave for the day. Really, Mr. Hanscom, I expected better of you, at least...”

Richie’s patience was wearing thin. He was already stressed from his missing friends and talking about Creepy Ginger, and this was so not helping. “Fine! I’ll go and try and find my friends somewhere else!”

He turned and stormed out, not bothering to see if Stan was following. He walked until he reached the statue next to the library. Richie wanted to punch it. Stupid thing just being there and doing nothing while his life was falling apart. He sat down in the grass and sighed heavily.

“You said your friends were missing?”

He looked up to see that the whole group had joined him out here. Stan held the backpack Richie had left behind in the library. Beverly and Ben’s expressions were mixtures of curiosity and pity. 

It was Mike who had addressed him. The boy shifted awkwardly before continuing. “I know a few people that have...disappeared, too.”

It was quiet for a moment. 

“Were you serious about that smoke?” he asked.

Beverly sat down next to him and handed him a cigarette. She took one for herself and lit them both. The rush of nicotine helped calm Richie down. The others made small talk while Richie sucked down the tobacco smoke. It was unlike him to have nothing to say, but he really needed this to calm down. After a few minutes, the stick was burned down to the filter. Richie rubbed it out on the ground.

They formed a small circle. Stan sat by Richie, and Ben sat by Beverly. Mike completed it by settling in front of Richie.

“You were talking about Bill Denbrough, right?” Beverly asked him. She and Bill were in a play together in second grade. Bill always said that she was cool and it was a shame they didn’t become friends. Richie would give her a chance because of that.

“Yeah, and Eddie Kaspbrak.” His voice broke a little on Eddie’s name. Bill was his oldest friend, but he had to admit he was worried about Eddie just a little more. Big Bill had a much better chance of putting up a fight against an attacker than the skinny asthmatic. 

“Bill’s little brother is gone, too,” Stan added quietly.

Mike nodded. “The butcher I deliver to – his nephew went missing two weeks ago. And these twin sisters I knew, they’re only seven years old, they vanished at the start of the summer. Their parents and my grandfather help each other with our farms, sometimes.”

“What do you think happened to them?” Stan asked.

Mike only shrugged. “No idea. It’s like a hawk just snatched them right off the ground and flew off with them.”

“Is...is that what you guys were talking about?” Ben asked. His voice was quiet. The kid was obviously shy. It made Richie wonder how he ended up with not one, but two people to hang out with. “You were trying to find Bill and Eddie?”

He and Stan nodded. “Yup. Been trying for months now.” Richie wanted another cigarette.

“Any luck?” Beverly asked. She twisted some of her red hair around a finger.

“We only have one theory,” Stan said. He went on to explain what they knew about Creepy Ginger.

“This is scary,” Beverly said. “I keep hearing about kids going missing every day, it seems. And-and no one cares!”

“The sheriff can’t be bothered to get off his ass and do anything,” Mike spat. “He’s too busy giving his son tips on how to be an asshole.”

Richie decided he liked these guys.

“My mom warns me about strangers and tells me to be careful nearly every day now,” Ben volunteered. He scooted a little closer to Beverly. “I think she’s starting to regret moving to Derry.”

“It’s too bad we can’t all leave here,” Stan added. “Sometimes I feel like I’d be better off anywhere else in the country.”

It was quiet again. They all shared that sentiment.

“If...if you guys want,” Beverly said after a few moments, “we can help you look for Bill. And Eddie.”

“Yeah!” Ben was quick to agree. “I mean, I never got a chance to know them, but they both seemed pretty cool. And, you know...this thing will just keep happening unless we stop it.”

“We?” Stan asked. He signed up to find his friends, not be a superhero. “We don’t even know what’s really going on.”

The addition of more people made Richie feel braver. They were already helping fill the holes Big Bill and Eds left in him. “Yeah, we have to do something, Stan. I’m not interested in turning up on a missing poster. Besides, us losers have to stick together.”

The newly formed group agreed to meet up the following day in the Barrens to go over all their leads again. These guys – his and Stan’s new friends – seemed as smart as they did cool. For the first time in weeks, Richie really had hope.

 

“Come on, Billy! Just like I showed you!”

Bill shook his head and stepped away from the body on the floor. It was a young man. Bill had never seen anyone fully grown dead in the Neibolt house before. 

Bobby frowned playfully and waved the large knife in his hand. “C’mon, Little Buddy! You’ll never learn if you don’t practice!”

“No, B-Bobby! I c-c-can’t!” he protested. The man’s eyes were still open and Bill couldn’t bare to look at the glassy blue irises for very long. 

“Yes, you can!” Gray’s voice was light and encouraging, reminding Bill absurdly of his kindergarten teacher. He grabbed Bill’s hand and placed the knife in it. “I’ll walk you through it, how about that?”

“No. I don’t wa-want to!” Bill was long past asking why Bobby wouldn’t relent or show him mercy. First the man makes him an accomplice, and now Bill was going to have to do the real dirty work.

The boy’s once strong will was now paper thin. His tears welled up fast and he quickly buried his face in Bobby’s chest to hide them. 

The man cooed and made shushing noises as he held the sobbing child. Bill knew this should be humiliating, but he was willing to let himself pretend that Bobby really cared.

“But Billy?” Gray asked after the cries turned into small whimpers and hiccups. He pulled the boy back to look at his red face. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to. _I_ want you to, so you’ll do it!”

With that, he pushed the Bill down on the floor and forced him to kneel by the corpse. Bill continued to whimper as Bobby wrapped his larger hand around Bill’s, keeping the knife in a firm grip. Bill’s palms were so sweaty that the blade would have surely fallen to the floor without the assistance.

Bobby moved him like a true puppet master. The knife was raised to the man’s pale elbow. Bill was too weak to protest anywhere but his own tortured mind. With Bobby’s guidance, the blade went cleanly through the joint.

“You know, Little Buddy, I always thought the arms were the tastiest part!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The focal point of this story is the relationship between Bill and Bobby, but I couldn't resist having all the Losers meet up. The question is, though: will anything actually come of it?


	13. Chapter 13

Bobby hadn’t been lying when he told Billy that his parents didn’t get out much these days. (Really, it wasn’t like their missing sons were going to find themselves!) The Denbroughs were just as sulky as the last time he saw them. But like all other humans, they had the need to eat and occasionally leave their empty nest for a few hours.

Bobby came to their house just as the couple was getting in the car and leaving. Ooh, and wasn’t this a perfect opportunity? 

He pulled the pair of leather working gloves that he liked to carry with him out of his jacket pocket and pulled them on. Grieving parents didn’t always think about keeping their home secure, so Bobby set out for one of the second floor windows. He had the skill and nimbleness of a spider when it came to climbing!

The sun had just set, and he knew there was some big basketball or football game on tonight. There was only a small chance that he would be seen. And hey, hadn’t his luck been just great so far?

It was easy to scale the sides of the house. Bobby had never come across a building he couldn’t break into before. 

Lo and behold, the window was unlocked. Bobby wondered if every house in town was like this. It was like the people of Derry were just waiting for someone like him to come and make their children float!

He slithered in easily, and quickly shut the window and drew the shade closed. He pulled out a small flashlight and took in his surroundings. 

The room obviously belonged to a young child. Yellow wallpaper with a circus animal pattern and stuffed animals on a shelf. A small bed and a toy chest decorated the space. It was clean, with the exception of a few toys scattered on the floor. This must have been little Georgie’s room. Oh dear, were the grieving parents keeping a shrine to their lost son? Bobby’s mouth watered at the thought of how Georgie’s arm had tasted. He would have to find another eight-year-old soon. 

His lips curled in distaste as he spotted a toy turtle on the nightstand. Marty always loved turtles, and therefor Bobby _hated_ them. Maybe he would make Billy turtle soup for dinner one night.

With that in mind, Bobby ventured out of the room and began to explore. Billy’s old bedroom had to be around here somewhere. 

He took his time. The doors lining the hall lead to a closet and then a bathroom. One at the end revealed a large bedroom. Beige walls surrounded antique furniture and a neatly made bed. Pictures of a once happy family decorated a vanity. Bobby held one up of Billy and a baby Georgie. Oh, were those tear stains on the glass? 

This must be the parents’ room. Of course they would have a living space as stiff and boring as themselves. How did they ever produce such a fun kiddo like Billy?

The house was almost spotlessly clean, and he could practically feel the stiffness and coldness radiating from every corner. What a contrast the Neibolt house must be for his little buddy. It was run down and messy, but very well lived in. Definitely loud and active in there. Bobby wondered if Billy would prefer this tense quiet to being trapped like an animal in Pennywise’s Fun House. (Well, yes, obviously. That was part of the fun in keeping him!)

Bobby really did feel like Billy was coming a long way. Every day he could see the boy breaking down and losing a bit more of himself. How long before he finally snapped and just accepted what Bobby did? Those would be fun times for sure. Bobby never had a proper friend before. He wasn’t someone who thought very far into the future, but it would be nice to have someone with him when he traveled. 

Yes, Bobby could finally admit to himself that he wanted to keep the boy. He couldn’t stay in Derry forever, and he wanted to take Billy with him when he finally left this lovely place. Of course, he still had plenty of time to make sure Billy was properly trained. Couldn’t have Billy trying to run away or tattle, could he? 

It was completely up to the boy if he wanted to be treated as a companion or a pet.

Billy’s room ended up being across the hall from his little brother’s. How _sweet_.

Bobby had to admit it was rather nice for a kid’s room. The walls were painted blue and large glass windows took up most of one. There were books and comics scattered around. A model of the solar system and a telescope decorated the desk.

The space was definitely more comfortable than the dust bunnies and old blankets that Bobby supplied. No wonder Billy was so rebellious. He was probably a spoiled brat!

He noticed the space wasn’t quite as clean as Georgie’s room. There was a thin layer of dust on the furniture. A pile of used tissues decorated a spot by the bed. 

...Or maybe Billy wasn’t so spoiled. Perhaps his little buddy wasn’t the favored child of his parents. Wasn’t he lucky, then, that Bobby gave him so much attention?

He knew that the Denbroughs never stayed out too long, but he went to explore the rest of the house anyway. Who knew what treasures were just waiting to be found?

 

Bill was feeling very apprehensive.

Bobby was being oddly...nice. (Well, anything but his captor’s usual behavior could be considered as such. It wasn’t like Gray was letting him go or anything.) Gray came to visit him in the morning, bringing a bag from a fast food place. They sat at the kitchen table and ate pancakes and sausage. Bill discovered that he was losing his appetite for meat altogether, but forced the patties down at Gray’s teasing that they could have homemade sausages instead.

After, Gray announced that he had to go to work and that Billy could stay downstairs and watch television. It was a change from sitting in his room all day or having to do chores first. Was Pennywise going to make an appearance again?

Of course, Gray shackled Bill’s ankle before leaving him sitting on the couch. It was hard to admit that Bill was getting used to this. He caught himself as he started to hold out his ankle when Gray lifted the chain. The man didn’t laugh or jeer at him, so he must not have noticed. Bobby left him with a pat on the head and a promise to be back for dinner.

It was enough to make Bill nervous. The man had to be up to something. Was this a new technique in torturing Bill? Was Gray having a rare moment of sanity?

He tried to keep his mind off it. It was Saturday, so Bill could indulge in morning cartoons for the first time in many weeks. And while the familiar characters and music were comforting, Bill found they just weren’t the same when watching alone. There was no little brother to watch these with while they ate cereal. No friends to come over and laugh with him. 

That didn’t stop Bill from pretending he was home with them. (He would never, ever, imagine his remaining friends being in Gray’s house.) Bill hated Gray. He really, truly did – but the man was the only company he had. Sometimes Bill feared he was forgetting what it was like to be truly loved and appreciated. Georgie always looked up to his big brother and Bill adored him in return. Eddie, Stan, and Richie were loyal and trusting. Unlike so many of his classmates, they weren’t ashamed to be seen speaking to Stuttering Bill. The most Bill could hope for these days was that Stan and Richie never crossed paths with Robert Gray.

Sitting on the couch all day got boring fast. Bill missed his bike. He missed the pedals and the feeling of freedom and the feeling of wind blowing through his hair. He missed the sun and blue skies and summer grass and cool breezes. Couldn’t Gray at least uncover a window so he could look out of it? It wasn’t like anyone ever came on Neibolt Street, so Bill couldn’t try and get help that way.

Bill got up to pace several times. The heavy chain meant he couldn’t go far or walk very fast, but his body craved exercise. He was envious of the cartoon characters who could break chains like they were made of paper and lift objects five times their size. How easy it would be to escape Gray then! But Bill Denbrough was just an ordinary little boy in a fucked up situation. No easy ways out for him.

 

Gray returned around four in the afternoon. A bit earlier than usual, but Bill was glad because he really needed to piss. His growling stomach, damn it to hell, was also demanding food.

Gray unchained him and followed him upstairs. And, good lord, he actually stood outside the bathroom while Bill did his business. How did Gray always find new ways to be the absolute worst?

“How was your day, Little Buddy?” he asked when Bill rejoined him.

Bill snorted. Why did the man always ask him this? “It wou-would be a-a lot better if I was fa-far away f-from you.”

“Always such a jokester, Billy!” Bobby grabbed his arm and began to lead him out of the room. “C’mon, let’s go make dinner.”

Bill tensed but didn’t protest as they headed toward the kitchen. He knew from experience that putting up a fight would only end in pain. Not that he would ever eat another human fucking being willingly. There were still small ways he could fight Gray. Making meal times difficult was one of them.

To his surprise, Gray had bought a pack of fresh salmon. “You do like fish, don’t you, Billy?”

Bill nodded. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had any. His parents were more of meat and potatoes kind of people. Bill was willing to eat anything that wasn’t red meat or resembled it at this point. Hmm, maybe when he escaped here he wouldn’t have to go completely vegan after all.

He sat at the table while Bobby cooked. So even Gray needed to have a change of diet every once in awhile. Did frightened children get old after awhile? After seeing what a large supply Gray kept, Bill would have never thought he’d live to see the day!

Or...was it that Gray was doing this for Bill’s benefit? That nervousness he felt earlier returned. What if Gray was trying to soften him up for something? What was the insane man up to now?

He fretted until Gray set down a plate in front of him. Bill’s mouth watered. The salmon looked perfectly fried, and there was even a side of asparagus. Did all maniacs cook as well as Gray did?

It was silent while they started to eat. Bill was trying to pace himself and savor the moment. Gray put too much pepper on the fish but it was still palatable.

“What do you think about turtles, Billy?”

“Huh?” Where had that come from? Georgie had always liked the reptiles so Bill looked at them fondly. “They’re al-alright.”

Gray didn’t look happy with his answer but didn’t press any further.

Bill happily finished his dinner. It seemed like he hadn’t done that since before Georgie died. Nothing but cold looks from his parents and Gray practically force-feeding him since then.

He looked up and gulped. Gray was smiling.

“Sit tight, Billy, I got something for you!”

Bill’s gaze stayed on Gray as the man left the room. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. What was gong to happen now? Did Gray catch another one of his friends? 

Gray soon returned with a bag. His eyes shone with sadistic glee as he reached in and pulled something out, dropping it in Bill’s lap. “Recognize this, Little Buddy?”

To Bill’s confusion and horror, he did know exactly what this was. It was one of Georgie’s stuffed toys, that stupid blue rabbit with the droopy ears. As he held it, he could practically smell his younger brother’s bedroom and hear his voice. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Wuh-wuh-where did you g-get t-t-this?”

Gray shrugged. “I was walking by your old house and noticed that your folks had thrown a bunch of old junk out. So I figured, finders keepers, you know? Here, I got more!”

Gray pushed the rabbit to the floor and then handed Bill a book. It was a horror sci-fi novel that happened to be one of Bill’s favorites. Before his own life had become such a horror show, Bill had dreams of writing his own books one day. 

He was repulsed that Gray would touch these things. Hadn’t he done enough to the Denbroughs without touching their possessions with his bloody hands?

“Don’t like that, Billy? Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty!”

There was several more items from the Denbrough house. A pair of Georgie’s shoes, some of Bill’s clothes, spoons from their kitchen, a bottle of his mom’s perfume, his dad’s watch. He sobbed when Bobby presented him with a picture of him and Georgie.

“Where d-did you ge-get this?” he demanded again. “Did you d-d-do something t-to muh-my p-parents?” He refused to believe his parents would throw any of this stuff out, much less Georgie’s things. 

Gray was amused by this.“Why would I waste any time on them? They’re so dull that I could fall asleep watching them.”

Bill picked the rabbit back up. The feel of its soft fur was comforting. It was odd to have a symbol of innocence be here, unsullied, in Gray’s house.

“Do you like these, Billy? If you want, I can go back and get you some more toys.” 

Bill felt himself nodding. Later that night, he was going to take all these trinkets to his room and cry over them. He would feel each of them and remember fiercely the time, not too long ago, he had a happy family. He would smell the perfume until he became dizzy and rub the smooth glass on the watch, the bunny clutched to his chest through it all. And he would hate, hate, _hate_ Robert Gray for reducing him to this.

“Now what do we say, Billy boy?”

Bill could feel yet another bit of himself breaking. “Thank you, B-Bobby,” he said through gritted teeth.


	14. Chapter 14

One night, Gray rented movies for them.

“I noticed all those posters in your old room,” the man told Bill as he handed him a stack of VHS tapes to look through. “It’s Halloween! You should be in the mood for these, right?”

Although the air had begun to get cooler, Bill couldn’t believe it was already late October. When he looked through the cracked in the boarded windows, he could see that the trees across the street were brown and yellow and orange. How much longer would he be trapped here?

Bill shifted through his choices and realized they were in fact some of his favorites. _Gremlins, Beetlejuice, Ghost Busters_ … But how could he enjoy them now, after his life had become its own horror show?

“Well, which one do you want to watch, Billy?”

Gray’s faux-cheeriness made Bill want to punch him in the face...and hopefully not lose a finger.

“... _Gremlins_.” At least the monsters in that one ate plants. Maybe Gray could learn a thing or two from it.

Bill wondered why gray wasn’t dressed as Pennywise and out traumatizing the youth of Derry. Surely they would be even easier to scare tonight!

Gray popped the film into the VCR and they settled on the couch. Gray even brought a bowl of popcorn and a blanket for them to share. Bill missed the comfort of watching a movie like this with someone, but the fact that it was Gray that he was snuggling against kind of ruined it. 

Bill hated how desperate he was for affection that he accepted it all without complaint. God, what would Georgie and Eddie say if they saw this?

Bill leaned against Bobby’s side and tried to get lost in the movie. It was fine until the dark humor started to kick in. Gray would laugh every time someone got hurt. Those sights and sounds combined caused Billy to remember vividly some of his captor’s more gruesome work. Bill knew then he was never going to watch another horror movie again without thinking of his time here. Gray not only tainted his personal life, but now his hobbies and escapes.

He put the popcorn bowl aside. “I-I need to g-go to the ba-bathroom.”

Gray frowned but allowed Billy up. Gray didn’t bother chaining Bill up this time so he walked freely to the downstairs bathroom. Really, he didn’t need to relieve himself as much as he wanted away from Gray and his damn giggling.

When Bill reached his destination he just sat on the toilet lid and rubbed his eyes. He wished Gray would just let him go back to his room so he could sleep. When he wasn’t having horrible nightmares, Bill dreamed of happier times. When he was lucky, he didn’t dream at all. It was the best escape he had from this place.

Bill sat there for several minutes. It would be peacefully quiet until the echoes of Gray’s laughter reached him. Boy, he sure was getting into that movie…

For the first time in weeks, an urge came over Bill. It was something he hadn’t felt since Gray made him kill that girl in the kitchen. It was the desire to flee, an animal instinct to make a mad dash for safety.

He was unshackled. It was dark in the house with the television turned up loud. Bill could sneak around until he found an exit. There was a chance a hammer or crowbar was just lying around somewhere. (Gray always had some weapons on hand for when he made someone “float”.) Gray was distracted and he hadn’t come looking for Bill yet. This was as good an opportunity as any to get away.

It took longer to gather the nerve. His muscles tensed if he even thought about moving. Sure, he had bravado in this moment, but Bill was ashamed to recall all the times he broke down when Gray decided to punish him. Unbidden, images of Eddie and the girl and everyone else Bill witnessed being slaughtered by Gray came to mind. Whose to say that, if caught, Bill wouldn’t end up like them this time? Bobby’s patience couldn’t be limitless. Bill would become more trouble than he was worth at some point.

He could practically see it. _“Trying to run away again, Little Buddy? And after I was trying to be nice with these movies!” Queue insane cackling before a knife came swinging down._

Bill shivered. No, he couldn’t let that happen. But...even if it didn’t happen tonight, Bill had no guarantee that it wouldn’t happen tomorrow or next week or next month. Tonight could be the last chance he had to escape, he just didn’t know it. Then who would ever be able to expose Gray for his crimes?

“Think about Georgie,” he whispered to himself. “Think about y-your family and f-friends. They need you. D-do it for G-G-Georgie.”

Bill took some deep, calming breaths before forcing himself to stand. What if Gray was waiting outside the door, somehow knowing what Bill was up to? He stood still then and listened for any signs of life nearby. Over his own beating heart and harsh breaths, Bill would be very lucky to hear anything from his captor. The man had ninja-like stealth.

He slowly opened the door. Gray was nowhere in sight. Bill sighed in relief and stepped into the hallway. He was suddenly glad that Bobby made him clean this place up. Who knew what the hell he could step on in the dark? 

There was enough light coming through the cracks in the boarded windows to allow Bill to see where he was going. He would have to be careful, though. Gray could have installed trapdoors or other booby traps for all he knew.

He opted to go in the opposite direction of the living room. There had to be some back entrance or covered vent that he’d never noticed before. Bill kept his eyes peeled and gingerly felt along the walls, shuddering at the feel of the rotting old wallpaper. 

His heart pounded so quickly that Bill was afraid it would pop out of his chest. The adrenaline kept him creeping forward all while every survival instinct told him to return to Bobby’s side. The man was in a good mood tonight. He wouldn’t hurt Bill if the boy didn’t misbehave.

Bill scowled and shook his head. No, he couldn’t just watch a damn movie with Gray like everything was normal! He needed to return to his mother’s arms and hear Richie’s laugh. Bill let the thought of his loved ones keep pushing him forward. 

He had gone over half of the lower floor by the time he paused. All the windows were thoroughly boarded up. No exit to be seen. Bill wasn’t foolish enough to try the basement again. Gray surely had it locked up after Bill almost escaped through there twice. He also had no desire to smell rotting meat and step on the old, bloody clothes of long dead children.

(Good lord, their murderer was in there laughing at a fucking movie.)

He couldn’t try going upstairs, either. Gray’s super-human ears would probably hear him go up the creaky steps. Any escape method would have to include him dropping down from the second story, and he knew he wouldn’t get very far with two broken ankles.

Bill would have to find a way in the small area around him. Surely there something he could do?

Every moment he stood there, thinking, he grew more anxious. How much longer before Bobby became impatient and came to look for him? Why was Bill wasting his chance, yet again?

“Just d-d-do some-something,” he urged himself. “Damn it, j-just do something!”

Bill scanned the floor and some nearby shelves. Okay, nothing on the floor to use. What next?

He approached the dusty wooden shelves to examine its contents better. Useless knickknacks: a garden gnome, empty Mason jars, a few creepy porcelain dolls. But wait – oh! There was a small garden rake towards the bottom. He could definitely use that.

Bill quickly snatched up the tool and looked around him. No sign of Gray – yet. He needed a plan and he needed it fast.

There was always the option of attacking Gray with the rake. As soon as Bill had the thought, he imagined all the different ways it could go wrong. Mostly, Gray would likely get Bill’s weapon away from him and then use it to gouge his eyes out. Yeah, best just to stay away from Gray.

Bill turned to the nearest window. Moonlight shone through the boards oh so invitingly. Bill longed to feel the cool breeze again. Maybe could pry the boards away?

He put the ends of the rake, which he could now see were quite rusty, against the opposite side of a board and gently pulled. A load, groaning creak penetrated the air. 

Bill immediately stopped and pulled the rake away. He felt his heart drop into his stomach. Oh God, what if Gray heard that?

He stood and waited to see if his captor would come charging at him. Please, he can’t have blown this already…

Bill waited, and waited a bit more. His heart rate eventually slowed back down. Okay, maybe Gray hadn’t heard that noise over the television and his own laughter. Was it safe to try again?

It took Bill longer this time to gather the nerve to move. 

“Come on, come on,” he murmured. “Be b-brave, B-Big Bill.”

He lifted the rake to the boards once more. He pulled slowly this time. It took longer for the board to creak, but now the tongs of the rake were shrieking, too. Bill now feared that they would break off. How would he explain to Bobby about how the tool became broken?

What if Bill managed to get one board off, only for Gray to come find him then? There was no way Bill could talk his way out of that. He was clearly trying to escape!

He tugged harder. The noise continued, but the wood didn’t budge. The rake scratched against the window. Bill dug his feet in the floor and pulled and pulled and pulled. Nothing happened. All he accomplished was making his hands sore.

At this rate, it would take an hour just to get one board free. The window was was covered in six. How long had Bill been gone now? How much longer was left on the movie?

Damn it.

Damn it. Damn it.

...There was no way Bill was getting out this way. The realization came like a bucket of cold water over his head. He didn’t have the time or the strength.

There was no other way out. Gray would surely find him if he went to another part of the house now.

Bill almost broke down in tears. He had such high hopes for a few moments there. Freedom was so close he could practically taste it. Yet again, he was reminded that he was just a weak, helpless little boy who couldn’t do anything to save himself.

Didn’t he used to be so brave, so daring? The leader of his group of friends who had no qualms about tracking down the fucking clown who stole his baby brother. Just look at him now! A sniveling coward.

Welp, if he was going to be a coward, might as well go all the way. Feeling strangely both empty and sick on the inside, he put the rake back where he found it and walked out of the room.

Gray was sitting right where he was when Bill left. His eyes were still glued to the screen, but even from the doorway Bill could see impatience beginning to grow in them. The blue orbs looked oddly yellow in the dark, Bill noticed.

The man’s expression lit up when Bill reclaimed his place on the couch. The popcorn bowl was empty.

“Little Buddy! What took you so long?” If there was any suspicion if Bobby’s tone, Bill elected to ignore it.

Bill shrugged and curled up. “N-Nothing.”

Gray wagged a finger at him and then held out the rest of the videos for Bill.

He selected one at random before sitting back and shutting his eyes. He knew this failure, like all the others, would haunt him for a long time to come.

 

Richie had always loved Halloween. It was the perfect opportunity to act out his characters, try his voices, scare some little kids, and get free candy on top of it all.

This year, though? None of that shit was happening. If it wasn’t just for the fact two of his best friends were still missing, there was a seven o’clock curfew in place. What was the point of going out if he had to be home by dark like some fucking kindergartener? Not that he was planning on dressing up this year. Richie and his friends had much more important things to do.

(None of it would be fun without Bill and Eddie, anyway.)

Stan’s parents were always wary of this particular holiday, so he had to come home right after school until it passed. Mike’s grandfather didn’t trust the local bullies to double their efforts in terrorizing him, so he was staying on his farm until further notice.

That left Richie, Ben, and Beverly to scope out the neighborhood for any signs of Bill and Eds. Their fresh eyes would surely pick up on something Richie and Stan couldn’t. Even though they practically tore this shitty town upside down over the past few months…

There wasn’t much to do except ride their bikes around and search. Geez, there weren’t many trick or treaters out this year. Last year the streets were packed with kids dressed as werewolves and princesses and pirates. Now there were only some kids being lead around by their parents, maybe three or four per block. Older teenagers hung out in their usual haunts, just daring any police officers to come and enforce curfew on them.

Richie thought back to all the missing posters that had popped up over the summer. Had all the kids disappeared in this town, or had their parents finally wised up and decided to actually keep a fucking eye on their children?

“It’s getting late,” Beverly commented as they cruised past the water tower. “My dad is going to want me home soon.”

Richie’s and Ben’s parents had the same expectations. 

“Gotta live life on the edge sometimes, Bev.” Richie refused to go home until he had to. His friends needed him, damn it. He would do everything he could for them.

“Is there anywhere you haven’t checked?” Ben asked. “Or at least haven’t checked in awhile?”

Richie thought for a moment. It felt like he and Stan had been all over Derry countless times. 

“Or, um, where’s the last place you saw Eddie? I remember you said Bill went to look for his brother...”

“Eds?” The memory of the last time he saw Eddie stung. But what were they doing that day? “We split up that day. He...he went to – to Neibolt Street! Goddamnit, we haven’t been there all summer! Place always gives me the creeps so I stay away from it!”

“We’ve got some time left, let’s go ride by,” Beverly suggested.

Ben and Beverly had some trouble keeping up with Richie as he sped toward Neibolt Street. He never thought he would ever be in a hurry to get there in his life. All it had was that creepy broken down house. But wasn’t that the perfect place for someone to hide two missing boys?

There was only one working street lamp near the house. The weird thing is that they didn’t really need it to see. There were lights coming from inside!

“Is it just me, or does it look like someone is watching TV in there?” Beverly asked.

“Maybe some kids are having a party?” Ben suggested. 

They both looked as uneasy as he felt. Neibolt had that effect on people. 

They sat and watched the building for signs of life. There was no movement in the windows and no one came in or out. Richie flinched as they heard an occasional laugh (or was it a scream) come from inside.

“L-Let’s come back later,” Richie said. When there’s no one else here.”

His companions shared his opinion and swiftly glided away. Richie felt like a coward for leaving so soon, but the place made his skin crawl. Especially at night. On Halloween. Yeah, they could come back in broad daylight to look for clues. In a group, and with weapons.

As they turned the corner, Richie felt like he was forgetting something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I have not seen Gremlins since I was a kid I have little to no memory of what happens in it.


	15. Chapter 15

After Halloween, the weather quickly turned cold. For once, Bill was grateful for the wood covering the windows – it helped keep the frigid wind out. It wasn’t like this dilapidated hell hole had a proper heating system. Bill had to walk around with a blanket over his shoulders just to keep warm.

He considered several times asking Bobby for a new set of clothes or at least a coat, but he was too afraid that it would come at a cost. Who knew what Gray would ask from him? Eat someone’s eyeballs? Carve the still-beating heart out of a kid’s chest? Clean the hooks in the basement?

Nope, a ratty old blanket would do just fine.

Bobby, however, appeared to love the cold. The man would waltz into the house in the evenings wearing nothing heavier than a thin jacket. He seemed even more energetic than usual. Maybe he didn’t like heat? Did it make him irritable and lethargic, like a lion?

The thought made Bill nervous. Now that the days were shorter, there was no telling what Gray could get up to under the cloak of darkness. There surely wouldn’t be as many kids running around after school. Right? Then again, Bill and his friends rode their bikes and hung out in arcades until there were threats of frost bite and disease in the air. Kids would always find some excuse to go out and play. 

Everyone would be weighed down by heavy snow boots and parkas in mere weeks from now. It would be hard to escape from a crazed man so light on his feet…

Bill could already envision the man bringing home more carcasses than usual. Or worse, live prey. Bill wished he could pour bleach in his ears and it would reach his brain and wash away all his memories of injured, pleading children slaughtered right in front of him. The only consolation in those situations was that Gray didn’t make him do much dirty work. Apparently, Bill didn’t have any natural talent at butchering. Couldn’t let all of Bobby’s hard work go to waste, now could they?

The soft sound of music penetrated the air.

Bill turned his gaze away from the television. It was a Sunday afternoon. Gray didn’t have any clown gigs scheduled, nor was his larder depleting, so the man was spending his free time lounging around the house. It was odd to see Bobby just kicking back and relaxing. Between his real jobs and killing sprees, the man was always busy with something.

Bill stayed on the couch to avoid the man as he wandered about. Bill tried to guess what he was up to – all he could hear was Bobby moving some stuff around upstairs. Making room for more instruments of torture, probably. Wasn’t the basement full of junk by now? Gray likely needed a new trophy room, too.

When had Gray even come back to the ground floor? 

Bill couldn’t help but listen intently. His mom used to play piano all the time before Georgie...disappeared. (Bill refused to acknowledge his little brother’s true fate.) It had been months since he heard the familiar and comforting sounds of this particular instrument. Despite himself, Bill relaxed. The piano was something he heard all his life and he associated the sounds of it with warmth and love. With his mother.

Whatever tune Gray was playing wasn’t familiar to Bill. It was slow, and almost melancholic sounding. It was something Bill expected to hear from a sad movie, not a crazed man who worked part time as a clown.

The tempo increased. The melody turned haunting, as if warning the listener of an impending danger. It was oddly hypnotic. 

As if being summoned by some nameless force, Bill rose to his feet and headed toward the source of the music. He knew approaching Gray for any reason was stupid, but Bill couldn’t help himself. His subconscious equated the piano with safety and so he felt confident while heading toward the foyer. 

The piano wasn’t far from the front door. Bill’s eyes strayed immediately to it. He always wondered when he came to this part of the house, what if it opened if he bolted over there and twisted the knob? What if this was the day Gray forgot to lock it? Could he find freedom if he just took a risk.

The idea was fleeting. Gray was far too careful to make a mistake like that. It was why he hadn’t been caught yet.

Gray looked oddly solemn as his fingers danced across the ivory keys. From the few lessons wit his mom that he bothered to sit through, Bill knew this required a lot of concentration. Gray didn’t even acknowledge Bill’s presence as the song continued. If Bill didn’t know damn well that the man he was watching could never be trusted, he would have closed his eyes. He almost felt at peace.

All too soon, Bobby’s hands left the keys and he turned to Bill. He smiled widely. “Come to listen, Little Buddy?”

Bill nodded. “I d-d-didn’t know y-you could play.”

Gray shrugged. “It’s a good talent to have in case some brats decide juggling isn’t good enough. I can also work an accordion like no one’s business.”

An accordion seemed far more becoming of Pennywise, but the piano was more becoming of Robert Gray. Bill wasn’t sure how that made sense. Maybe it was that Bobby could at least pretend to be a normal man. There was nothing subtle about the clown.

“Did your parents ever make you learn piano, Billy? I saw one in your old house.”

He bristled at the reminder that Gray had been in his family’s home. “...No. I st-stayed away from it.” Bill didn’t want to discuss his mother with Gray. The man would just find some way to tarnish the memories.

“Oh?” Gray didn’t seem to believe him but didn’t press the issue. He scooted over and patted the empty space on the bench next to him. “Sit down, Billy,”

Bill grimaced but immediately obeyed. He feared the cold would eventually make him sick. He didn’t need to be injured on top of that.

He thought that Gray would make him play something. Instead, the man just drummed his fingers against the keyboard and hummed something under his breath. This was...different. Since when was Bobby so quiet? It made Bill feel apprehensive. What was his captor up to now?

“You know, Billy,” he finally said, “sometimes being a clown isn’t always the best line of work.”

“...H-Huh?”

“People like the thrill of a new person to entertain their brats at first, but after awhile the appeal wears off. All the kiddos have already seen Pennywise by the time their birthdays or whatever comes around and they’re already tired of me. And, well, I have a tendency to make potential customers float.” This was followed by a horrid giggle.

“I don’t g-g-get it,” Bill replied. “Do y-you eat kids bec-because you’re sh-short on money?”

Gray laughed harder and pinched Bill’s cheek, who quickly swatted the offending hand away. “Oh, that’s hilarious, Little Buddy! But, no, that’s just a preference of mine.”

Yeah, eating children was a _preference_. Right on par with having eggs over easy and having steak cooked medium rare.

“What I’m saying, Billy, is that it’s hard for us to live on so little money. I was doing fine until recently. Stupid small town hicks always hoard all their cash this time of year.”

“And?” Bill asked. He still didn’t see where Gray was going with this.

Gray frowned at him. “As much as I love this little town...there’s not much more reason for me to stay here. Really, Derry is perfect for someone like me. Even now, the stupid police can’t get anything on me – but my foo source is dwindling and that stupid store keeps trying to dock my pay. I need to leave before staying here finally bites me in the ass – at least for awhile.”

Foolishly, Bill felt hope. Gray was leaving, really leaving! Derry wouldn’t have to suffer a child killer in its midst any longer!

The feeling was soon replaced with dread. Something obvious occurred to Bill. “W-What ab-bout me?”

Gray raised an eyebrow. “What _about_ you?”

“What are you go-going t-to do with m-m-me now?”Bill felt like he was signing his own death warrant by continuing, however not knowing would destroy his last shred on sanity. Bill knew everything that Robert Gray had been up to for the last few months. He was an eyewitness and even took part in many terrible things by Gray’s coercion. There was no way Gray was thinking of keeping him alive. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe Bill wouldn’t spill his guts to the police the first chance he got.

Bobby looked surprised for a moment. He then laughed and continued to laugh as he reached out to grasp Bill’s chin. “Oh, Little Buddy, you’re coming with me, of course!”

“What! No! I ca-ca-can’t!” Bill’s first reaction was denial. No, no, no! He couldn’t be stuck with Gray for any longer than this! “Please, Bobby! Just l-l-let me g-go!” He jerked out of the man’s grasp but remained seated. He didn’t know what to do. What _could_ he do?

Bobby’s frown was exaggerated, theatrical, _clownish_. “But, Billy, think of all the fun we can have together! You didn’t want to stay in this little backwater town forever, did you? We can go see the world together!”

“ _I don’t want to go anywhere with you!_ ” Bill finally stood from the bench and dropped the blanket around his shoulders. His muscles were tensed. He had to stop this. If Gray moved him to another town, city, state, wherever, he knew his chances of escaping would go down to zero.

Gray moved away from piano and stood in front of Bill. None of them made a move further. “Billy,” Gray tried again, voice cooing and cajoling,“you know you don’t have a choice, right? Aren’t you happy I’m not gutting you right here and now? I can still make you float! One last tasty meal before I hit the road!”

Bill took a step back.

“But I don’t _want_ to do that. I really don’t!” Gray continued. He took step forward. “Come on, Little Buddy, everything will be easier if you just come along quietly. I bet you’ve been just dying to get out of this house. We can go someplace far, far away from here!”

“So you can k-kill kids in an-nother town? Bill asked. “Just have m-me keep going a-along with it? B-Be Bobby and Billy against the w-world?”

Bill only said the last part to demonstrate how ludicrous he thought this situation was, but Bobby’s face lit up.

“Yeah, we can -”

Bill turned and ran.

Gray only let out a deep, annoyed sigh before giving chase. “This is pointless, Billy!”

Bill knew that, but he wasn’t being permanently taken from his family and friends without a fight. Like hell he was going to leave Derry! Bill wanted to keep living, by God he did, but death might just be preferable to a life stuck with Gray. 

Bill did his best to make one last break for freedom. He didn’t try the front door or any of the windows. He already knew there was no getting out those ways. He sprinted through rooms, dodging furniture and moving in zig-zags. Gray followed him. The man often came close enough to grab Bill but let the boy keep running. Bill knew the man was only humoring him. One last good chase. For old time’s sake.

Gray’s laughter followed him up the stairs and through dusty hallways. Strange that no matter how often Bill swept and mopped this damned place, it never stayed clean. At least knew the layout well enough to be able to keep dodging Gray.

His thoughts raced as he ran. Where could he go? What escape route could he take? He couldn’t go into any rooms. Gray could quickly corner him in any of them. No windows to jump out of, no back doors to take. The basement was sealed off and Bill was certain that the well was covered up. 

No way out.

He couldn’t just stop and give in. he wanted to keep fighting Gray until the end. At least then maybe he could live with himself a little better.

Bill finally lost this game of chase when he tripped on his way back downstairs. He yelped and threw out his arms to try and catch himself. The impact with the floor was hard on his knees and arms. The pain momentarily paralyzed him. Bobby chose that moment to swoop in.

Bill cried out as Gray’s foot came down on his back. “That was fun, Billy! Really got my blood pumping!”

Okay, this was it. He was beaten. There was no escape now. The knowledge had an almost calming effect on Bill. There was nothing he could do now. He ran and fought and cried for months and he managed to stay alive. What kind of life lay ahead of him now? 

No, he couldn’t give up. As long as he lived, he could find a way to expose Gray’s crimes and make it back home.

He just had to stay strong. Really, really strong.

This new resolve didn’t prevent him shedding a few tears as Gray tied his ankles together and secured his arms behind his back. Any cries he could make were muffled by a rag being shoved into his mouth.

“Can’t have you screaming the place down while I’m packing up, now can we?”

Bill laid there and shook for some time. Gray whistled a merry tune as he walked through the house uand gathered various things. What was worth keeping from here? Was he packing up leftover meat? Was he leaving the hooks and bloodied clothes downstairs or taking them along to be disposed of? Bill wanted to know and yet he didn’t. He hoped it was all being left behind. It should all be left here as evidence.

A rattling sound came from the front of the house, followed by the creak of the door opening. Bill thought it was Gray carrying stuff outside until he heard the man snarl from the next room. What was going on? Was someone actually here?

Bill struggled to sit up as Gray ran past him and to the foyer. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Gray apparently recognized whoever the intruder was. Bill tried to yell for help despite the gag. He always was stupidly optimistic.

There was a startled yelp that was abruptly cut off. 

“Damn it, I do not have time for this!,” Gray cried. There was a bang followed by the sounds of a struggle. Another bang and then the unmistakable thud of something heavy hitting the floor.

What the hell was _happening_?

When Gray reemerged, his shirt had right hand was splattered in fresh blood. His good spirits was gone. Bill instinctively tried to curl up and try to hide himself. Gray’s mood could go from teasing to homicidal in the blink of an eye. Bill was willing to relax and go along as Gray wasn’t about to stab him. He was now afraid for his life more than he’d ever been. He couldn’t even run.

He tried to demand who Gray had just injured. Gray would have to know what he was trying to say.

The man ignored him, of course. He bent down and scooped Bill up, pressing the kid’s face into his chest. Bill tried to jerk away with a shout. His face was way too close to the blood. 

Gray held him in place as he carried him off. Bill still struggled. He wanted to see where he was being taken, damn it! He turned his head enough to see them passing by the piano. He tried harder to twist away. Who was laying mere feet away, probably bleeding out on the floor? 

Gray’s pace quickened, so they were already outside by the time Bill freed his head. He was momentarily stunned by the sight. It felt like forever since he had been outside. The sky was cloudless and a beautiful shade of blue. The cold breeze was refreshing against his skin. How was he even cold before? This was the best air he breathed and felt in months. There were still multicolored leaves on the nearby trees. Even the dry, brown grass was appealing. It was nature. It wasn’t fucking _plywood_.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last long. He was taken to the road beside the house, where Gray’s little yellow car waited. There was the jiggling of keys and the lid of the trunk opened. Bill was put down inside it. It smelled musty and Bill could already tell this would become uncomfortable fast. Bobby spared him one last glance before the lid slammed back down and Bill was left in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was totally imagining Bobby playing "Every 27 Years" on the piano.


	16. Chapter 16

This was so much worse than being trapped in the closet.

Not only was he gagged, immobilized, and stuck in the dark - the damn car kept _moving_. It was one thing if they were going in what Bill assumed to be a straight line, but it felt like Bobby was driving through a maze. Bill slid around in the trunk as the vehicle did turn after turn after turn. A particularly sharp curve had Bill’s head colliding with the metal side of the trunk. That dazed him for several blissful moments.

It was so frustrating when they were somewhere with a lot of traffic. Bill could hear other cars whizzing by and occasionally giving an angry honk. So many people were so close by and Bill had no way of calling for help. Even if anyone could hear him, he couldn’t call out. He was losing feeling in his limbs from staying still. The trunk was too small to really stretch out in. It would be just his luck if his whole damn body went completely numb.

Bill wished he could force himself to fall asleep. Maybe Gray would have arrived to wherever-the-hell they were going by the time he woke up. Bill knew he at least wasn’t in danger of being killed upon arrival, but the fear of being in an unknown location with Gray kept growing.

Eventually, the sparse light in the trunk faded away and it grew colder. The whole day had passed. Gray must be determined to get as far away from Derry as fast as he could.

Bill had been on trips with his family before. He tried to remember how many places took more than a day to drive to. All the amusement parks and hotels and family gatherings that took forever to get to were all out of state. Bill took a moment to mourn. Those were trips the Denbrough family would never be able to take again.

By the time it was fully dark, Gray managed to find a smooth, straight road. 

Somehow, Bill fell asleep.

 

The trunk lid opening woke him from his fitful rest. Bill shivered as a gust of cold wind blew across him. The pale morning light had no promises of bringing warmth.

Gray’s strong hands quickly reached in to grab him and pull him out of the car. Bill cried out as he was deposited on the hard ground.

“Stay right there, Little Buddy,” Gray said before walking off.

It took a few moments for Bill’s eyes to readjust to the light. He swiftly observed his surroundings, desperately hoping he would recognize the area.

It looked like they were in the middle of nowhere.

The car was parked in a small concrete driveway. The pavement was cracked and somewhat dirty. It lead out to a long stretch of road. There was a corn field on the other side of the road that seemed to stretch on for miles. No houses or businesses in sight.

On Bill’s side was a small house. It was barely more than a shack, really. The faded white paint was peeling. The tin roof slanted downwards. The door was wide open from when Gray must have gone inside. The area where a miniscule yard should have been was covered by more pavement. There was some dead grass beyond it that lead to a spattering of trees. Bill couldn’t see far enough to tell how much distance they covered.

Small chance of finding an escape route here. Was this a hide-away for Gray, or some abandoned home that they were going to squat in?

Bill could do nothing but sit on the cold, hard ground and shiver until Bobby finally reemerged. The man had donned a silver and orange sweatshirt. No time to change out of his blood stained shirt.

He picked Bill up and carried his limp form into the house. It was sparsely decorated inside. There was only one room that was divided into different areas. Old brown carpet took up half the floor. By the side wall sat a ratty old couch. Behind it was a curtain covering what had to be a small window. A cot rested against the back wall. A kitchenette took up the rest of the space, consisting of a tiny oven, two cabinets, and sink. There was a door in the back wall there.

Gray placed Bill down on the couch and finally removed the gag. Bill worked his jaw back and forth to regain feeling. He had a million things he wanted to shout at his captor. All the questions and demands and insults tried to come out at once and resulted in him making sputtering and choking sounds.

Of course, Gray laughed at him. “Did that car ride give you brain damage, Billy?”

“W-w-where are – where are we?” Bill finally pushed out. “Where the f-fuck are w-we?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gray asked. 

Bill tensed as the man pulled out his box cutter, and stayed that way even as the bindings on his wrists and ankles were cut. Gray could never be trusted that easily. 

“You can run and scream if you want, Billy,” Bobby said. “There’s no one around for miles who would hear you. But I am going to be _pissed off_ if I have to run after you. Capiche?”

Bill nodded. Why would Gray ever settle in a place where his captive could call for help?

“Good!” Gray ran a large hand over Bill’s sweaty hair. “Wait here. I’m going to get some bags.”

Bill focused on regaining feeling in his stiff limbs while Bobby went to retrieve his belongings from his car. How long were they going to stay here? There were no children close by to eat and nowhere to hide their mutilated bodies, so surely not long. No, Bobby would want another backwater town where no one cared about each other enough to notice when people went missing.

Gray soon returned and dropped several duffle bags unceremoniously on the ground. “Bathroom’s that way,” he said and pointed toward the door in the kitchen. 

Bill nodded and slowly made his way there on wobbly legs. Now that Gray mentioned it, his bladder did feel pretty full. The bathroom was tiny and dirty and Bill didn’t want to linger long. He did his business and ran his hand sunder a pathetic stream of cold water in the sink.

Gray was peering into the cabinets under the kitchen sink. There was a clanging noise. “Can you believe these stupid pipes are leaking? No one is even here to break them!” He crawled back out, a rusty wrench in hand. “Oh well, we won’t be staying here long so don’t get too comfortable.”

“Where a-are we?” Bill asked again. He needed some form of insurance that they were in a real place and not some isolated nightmare realm..

“Disneyland,” Gray said. He climbed to his feet and made his way to the couch, hands fiddling with the metal tool.

Bill followed him. What else was there to do. No where to run and hide, as Gray pointed out.

They sat in silence for awhile. Gray occasionally yawned. He must have been driving for many hours straight. Was he still too distrusting of Bill to take a nap?

This made made Bill’s skin crawl. The cold air stung is skin. The silence was making him crazy.

“Who d-did you hu-hurt?” Bill finally asked.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Billy.”

“At the house! Bef-f-fore we left D-Derry,” he snapped. As if Gray didn’t fucking know what he was talking about! “Who did you st-st-stab before we left?”

Gray’s smile was mocking. “You suuuure you want to know?”

“Yes!” Bill snapped. “Tell me, damn it!”

“Hmmmm. Well, Little Buddy, it was actually one of your friends, I think,” Gray told him with no small amount of glee. “The one with the curly hair and hangs out with that other kid with the glasses?”

Bill’s mouth went very dry. “S-Stan? You hurt Stan?”

Gray shrugged. “If that’s his name, yeah. No idea how or why he showed up at the house when he did. Really, the one time I don’t have the door bolted...”

Bill was hardly listening. “Stan is d-dead?” he asked. “He died back there?”

“Well, I didn’t stick around long enough to check. He waaas bleeding awful badly, though!”

Stan Uris, one of Bill’s oldest friends, was probably dead because of Robert Gray. Just like Georgie. Just like Eddie. 

“I saw him and the glasses kid out looking for you all the time, you know! Aw, he must have really missed you, Billy!”

Stan, who loved birds and having his clothes neat and always put off learning is Torah. Stan, who called Richie on his bullshit and helped them all with homework and had evidently missed Bill as much as Bill missed him.

“I wonder if anyone’s found him yet. I did lock the door behind me so his body might just still be laying there. They might not find him until some hobo breaks in trying to get warm!”

Both Eddie and Stan dead because they wanted to find Bill. Them and so many others. Dead because Bill hadn’t acted or was forced to help. 

Georgie and Eddie and Stan. His little brother and his best friends. Young boys and girls. Slaughtered and devoured by a man who made a living as a clown.

The man Bill was now permanently stuck with.

How many more friends? How many more Georgies and Eddies and Stans were going to die in some other town? Hell, what if Gray finally decided to dispose of Bill and then kidnap another kid to torture and slowly break?

He couldn’t let it happen. But what could he do? Every time he tried to stand up to Gray, it ended horribly. 

God, Stan had been hurt and bleeding out and Bill was carried right past him, not even able to look…

This couldn’t go on. _This couldn’t go on._

So what if Bill died? So what if he was just another victim of Robert Gray in the end? He had to do something now. This wasn’t like the other times he had to fight back. This wasn’t the Neibolt House. Gray would string him around for the rest of his life if Bill didn’t act now.

It was a constant chanting in his mind: _do it now. Do it now. Do it now._

And for the first time, he knew that he could do it. Almost as if a voice was reassuring him, like some long forgotten kind and wise friend, telling him to act now and win against this monster. He was physically alone, but he could swear he could hear Georgie’s soft laughter and his friend’s encouragement.

Bill stood, causing Gray to pause in whatever the hell he was saying.

_Enough, enough, enough._

“You’re a monster,” Bill stated. His voice felt steady for the first time since he was three years old.

Gray didn’t look impressed. “I’ve been called far worse, kiddo.”

“You’re a _monster_ ,” Bill repeated. “You know what, _Bobby_? I bet I know you better than anyone ever has before. You think you’re so superior to everyone else, don’t you? No one is smarter than you, or stronger, or -”

“Billy!” the man practically growled. Anger was replacing his smug expression.

“- fucking sneaky as you! Do you think you’re invincible? Do you think you’re untouchable? Well, I’m telling you, Gray, that you’re the one who’s nothing! You are the lowest form of life on Earth! One day you’re going to end up in jail or dead! Maybe someone will come along and eat you!”

Gray stood, incensed. “You little brat!” The man’s hand swung back -

Bill dodged out of the way just in time to avoid being backhanded. He had felt so, so weak over the past few months, in body, mind, and spirit. Somehow, he felt like he did before all this started. Back during the summer when he could go to the Barrens with his friends and come home to watch TV with his little brother. 

The Bill who was trapped in Neibolt house couldn’t overcome Robert Gray, but _that_ Bill Denbrough could.

Bill saw an opening and he took it. He shot forward and hooked his foot around Gray’s ankle before pushing hard against his side. This took the man by surprise, and his gangly form fell to the floor.

Do it now. Do it now. No time to be a coward.

In the same moment Gray cried out in shock and rage, Bill spun around to the couch and grabbed the wrench. He quickly turned back to Gray and brought it swinging down.

Gray recoiled, causing the metal to collide with his cheek. Bill could have sworn he heard something crack. 

“You ungrateful little shit!” Gray screamed. “Fuck it! I’m going to fucking kill you!”

And, oh, Gray was terrifying when he was this angry. His sharp teeth were bared like a wild, savage animal about to attack.

Bill didn’t have time to dwell on that. He brought the wrench down again and again. Gray was so undignified when he experienced any pain. He yelped and flinched like a kid, really. Those evil, blood-stained hands came to protect his head and face.

In a blur of movement, the box cutter Billy had so feared was withdrawn and buried into Bill’s side. The funny thing? Bill hardly even felt it. Between the adrenaline and fear coursing through his nervous system, the wound might as well have been a sting from a bee.

Gray was close enough now. Bill put all his strength into a swing directed at the back of Gray’s head. When the weapon struck its target, Gray collapsed to the floor and didn’t move again.

Bill stared down at him, panting heavily, just waiting for his captor to get up and begin the fight anew.

Long seconds passed, then minutes. The pain in Bill’s side began to grow.

Okay, okay. Was Robert Gray...dead? Bill flinched and hissed in pain as he bent down to check, fully expecting a surprise attack. But, no. Gray didn’t stir.

Bill finally noticed the man breathing. Still alive, then. 

...Should Bill end it all here? This man a certified monster. He relished in child murder in cannibalism. He had taken so very much from Bill and countless others. If he got away now, Bill was sure he would continue in his wicked ways.

Gray was defenseless. It would be easy.

Bill raised his weapon again. He could always claim it was the last blow that did Gray in. Bill was just trying to defend himself form this maniac. No one would question it, especially after learning of Gray’s many crimes.

He stood over Gray with the wrench poised over his skull for several long moments. Come on, what was one more whack? What was a little more dirty work to make sure Gray never harmed anyone else? Bill could take revenge for himself and Georgie and Stan and Eddie.

His arm refused to budge. Just one hit to end this nightmare for good…

...But that would make him just like Gray, wouldn’t it? Every fiber of his being was against harming someone when they couldn’t fight back. No, harming someone weaker was something Gray, a heartless demon, did. Bill Denbrough was kind, and he believed in doing good for others.

Oh lord, he _wanted_ to hurt Gray like the man had hurt him. He wanted to wipe that grin forever off his face. 

It’s what Gray would do to him.

Bill dropped the wrench.

 

There wasn’t much to use as gauze in the little shack. After resolving to show Gray some much undeserved mercy, panic took over. Bill had to get the hell out of there! Who knew when Gray would wake up. Oh, he would be pissed!

He made his way to the bathroom. There was one dirty towel laying on the floor by the sink. It would have to do. Bill gritted his teeth and slowly removed the box cutter from his flesh. Hot blood spurted over his fingers. What if it pierced one of his organs without him realizing? Well, he was going to die anyway if he didn’t hurry up and leave.

Bill tossed the box cutter into the bathtub and hastily pressed the towel against his wound. It was quickly becoming saturated with blood but there wasn’t anything else to do. Bill scurried out of the bathroom and made a beeline towards the front door. He refused to look at gray as he left. He was sure his heart would stop if he saw the man waking up.

As he ran outside, agony coursing through his body with every step, Bill had a feeling of freedom that he last felt when riding Silver down the street. Every step over cold concrete and then through dry, dead grass brought him further away from Robert Gray and closer to freedom.

His ears were peeled for any sounds. Gray’s screams of fury, the car engine starting, footsteps behind him, Pennywise’s demented laughter.

He made it to the woods. Nothing. He was alone.

The towel was almost completely red now. It was sticky and wet and unpleasant to hold.

The trees seemed endless. Bill started to wonder just how far from civilization Gray had brought them. Still, he stumbled over nettles and dirt and rocks. His new found strength has fleeting. Had to keep moving, his life depended on it.

As the miles stretched on, Bill felt weaker and weaker. Come on, the wound hadn’t been that deep. Surely it should be closing by now. No, Bill would need to stop moving for that.

He dug deep and pushed himself forward. He was so close, he could practically taste it. He repeated it in his mind. Almost safe, almost free.

And as the sun began to set, the trees broke to reveal a few buildings. Bill could have wept for joy.

He crossed an icy road, nearly slipping a few times on his bare feet, and came across a gas station. It looked deserted. Please, somebody had to be there...

For once, luck was on his side. There was a man behind the cashier, smoking a cigarette and flipping through a magazine. When he looked up and saw Bill, he gasped in shock and dropped his smoke.

“Help me,” Bill whispered before he finally collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhh, I really hope you guys found this chapter satisfactory. I was having trouble writing it. Thank you all so much for being patient for this and please enjoy!


	17. Chapter 17

He woke to the sound of beeping.

Bill struggled to open his eyes. They felt impossibly heavy and he nearly gave up after a few tries, but something was nagging him, some instinct telling him we needed to wake up and do it now. He might not get another chance.

All he could see at first was a blinding light. So bright and harsh on his sensitive eyes. Maybe this was Heaven? Bill was always told that it was white and bright. 

His vision cleared after a few moments.

Bill didn’t recognize his surroundings. His mind felt muddled and it was hard to think. He managed to turn his head some. It wasn’t easy. He had very little strength.

Okay, he knew what everything around him was. There were white walls and a window to his side, letting in sunshine. A television hovered above his bed, playing some old sitcom he didn’t recognize. The air stank of chemicals. He tried in vain to look down at himself but his head and neck wouldn’t cooperate. 

Bill wanted to return to sleep but something kept nagging him. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and he had to...to...to fight someone…

A door opened on the other side of the room. He turned his head some but couldn’t get it to move all the way.

There was a gasp. “Bill? Are you awake, Billy?”

It took him a moment to recognize the voice. It seemed like years since he’s last heard it.

“...Mom?” His voice was barley more than a breath.

He fell back into a deep sleep.

 

For months, Bill thought he would never see his parents again. Even though he fought Robert Gray with all his might, a part of him was convinced he die before he ever escaped. Bill had had plenty of fantasies where he brought Georgie home and they would all be a happy family again. Those turned into less cheerful ones where Bill returned home alone, because Georgie would never come or go anywhere again, and life would still carry on.

This reunion was different from how he’d imagined.

His mother was by his side when he woke. Oh, she had flung her thin arms around him and sobbed, and he soon joined her. It was so, so wonderful to feel a loving touch after only knowing abuse at Gray’s hands for so long. She murmured endearments into his hair and kissed his forehead too many times to count. Bill felt like a small child again. He was the tallest of his friends but now he felt like a toddler who wanted his mommy after a bad dream.

At some point, his father had joined them. Much like his wife, the man had lost weight over the time Bill was gone. Their skin was pale, faces gaunt, eyes haunted. Bill hoped they wouldn’t stay that way. He wanted his parents happy and whole, not ghosts of their former selves. 

While Sharon coddled their older son, Zack stood by the door and stared at Bill, as if he couldn’t believe that he was actually there. It was a look of stunned amazement, like getting an especially good Christmas present.

They stayed like that for a while. They were a broken family that had not yet begun to heal. They had no idea how to even start.

Eventually, Bill pulled away from his mom. “Dad?” he asked. He needed both his parents so badly. He needed his family and friends and books and fresh air and Silver. 

The small plea broke his father out of his trance. The man let out a small cry and rushed over to his family, wrapping his arms around them, fierce and protective.

“Oh, Bill. Bill, Bill, Bill. We’ve missed you so much...”

Somehow, this was the most loved Bill felt since the day Georgie disappeared.

 

The police came to question him far too soon for his liking. He wanted to stay with his parents, their attention and love focused on him, for much longer. But Bill knew he couldn’t be selfish now. Robert Gray was still on the loose and Bill was the only one alive to tell the world of his sickening crimes.

Bill was familiar with Officer Nell. He was an Irish immigrant and friendly with the town’s children. Richie loved to imitate his accent. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, sonny? Tell us about the day you disappeared.”

His parents flanked his sides. His father’s hand rested on his shoulder and his mother’s bony hand gripped one of his tightly.

Where was the beginning? Seeing Pennywise at the birthday party? Trailing Gray to his apartment? Going to his murder house?

“My...m-my brother went m-missing…”

Sharon made a pained noise.

“Yes, we know about poor little Georgie, Bill. But tell us about what happened to you.” The policeman’s voice was soothing, encouraging.

“And I fo-found the guy who d-d-did it! Robert Gray!” Bill said. Suddenly, he was overcome with the need to let them know everything. It was painful but they needed to stop Gray before he hurt someone else! “Gray...he...h-he k-killed G-Georgie!”

His parents gasped. Nell’s eyes widened. “How do you know this?”

“He told me!” God, it hurt to say this. It was like relieving the awful confession. And, oh no, what came next. “And he f-f-fucking ate him!” His voice cracked at the end. The words barely made it out of his mouth before he broke down crying. It was bad enough when he had to deal with this alone, and now his parents would have this terrible knowledge. 

His mother screamed. His father clutched his shoulder tighter. Bill thought his dad was asking him questions. He didn’t hear them. All his attention was on Officer Nell and the drive to keep talking.

“Twenty-nine Neibolt Street! Go there! Now, puh-please! Oh God, he’s killed so many kids! There...there are bodies and clothes and t-t-toys. He kept me locked up there the whole time. And h-he hurt my friend before we left! Please, you have to go help him! Stan Uris!”

Nell’s expression was pitying. “We’ve already been to that place, son.” His voice soft.

“Huh?” Bill was shocked. In all his time trapped there, no one except Eddie had ever come to that damned house of horrors. “When?”

“The same day you were apparently taken from Neibolt Street, we received a complaint from a young boy about his friend going missing. We didn’t take it too seriously, what with kids running off all the time, but I knew this lad well and had the situation checked it out. We found another boy bleeding in the front of the house.”

Bill’s world managed to shatter into more pieces. So, there was his confirmation. Gray hadn’t been lying about stabbing his friend. It was a small relief that Stan wouldn’t end up like the rest of gray’s victims.

“How w-was...I-I m-m-mean, is he -”

“Stan was still breathing when we found him,” Nell assured him. “Bill, your friend is alive. He’s recovering in this very hospital.”

Bill reached for his mother’s cold hand, which remained unresponsive. “R-Really? Can I s-see him?”

Stan was alive? Stan was alive! For a brief moment, Bill felt overwhelmed with happiness. They could hang out and go to school and play in the Barrens together again!

His mother’s barely audible sniffles soon brought him back to reality.

Nell leaned forward and to look Bill in the eye. “Bill, we found some very...disturbing things in that house.”

Bill flinched away. “Yes,” was all he managed to whisper.

“Son, please, we’ve been wracking our brains trying to figure what the hell went on there. Maybe you can help us fill in the blanks.”

 

It took several different officers and many hours to confess every terrible thing Bill experienced at the hands of Robert Gray. It did make him feel a bit better to have someone else know, and to have people who knew how to help available. The police assured him they would immediately issue an arrest warrant for Gray. They were very sympathetic and all that.

Bill didn’t even notice when his parents left the room.

 

They located the tiny house Gray had taken them to. All they found was the wrench and a large bloodstain on the carpet.

Robert Gray was long gone.

 

A few days later, Richie and Stan came to his room.

Stan was clad in hospital pajamas and a robe, much like Bill was. Richie was covered in his heavy winter coat.

Bill sat up in his bed when he saw them. Months ago, before all this, he might have been embarrassed to cry in front of them. Now, he let out a sob and held out his arms.

His friends immediately rushed to his side to hug him. No words were needed. They had missed each other fiercely.

“Damn it, Bill,” Richie said. “You got us all crying like girls.”

They laughed weakly and broke apart. Bill drank in the sight of the two other boys. He was still hard to believe that he was seeing them alive and well.

“Guys,” he said, “I’ve missed you s-s-so much. I-I th-thought I’d never s-see you again.”

“We never stopped looking for you, Bill,” Stan said. His eyes were red and watery. He was always the sensitive one of the group. “Not once.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t let our Big Bill get away,” Richie added. “Especially since you still owe me five bucks.”

Bill chuckled before his mood darkened. He was quick to remember the missing member of their group. “Eddie...Guys, oh fuck, Eddie!”

“His mom died, you know,” Richie murmured. “We, you know, never gave up on you, but I kind of had this feeling about Eds.”

“Was it him?” Stan asked. “That Robert Gray bastard. Did he do something to Eddie? The police won’t tell us anything.”

Bill nodded, solemn. “Eddie, he came to f-f-find me. He s-said you guys we-were looking for me. Gray found him a-a-and -”

“That motherfucker,” Richie growled.

“It’s my fa-fault,” Bill whimpered. “If I hadn’t g-gone searching for h-him alone -”

“No, Bill,” Stan interrupted. “None of this is your fault. What happened to your brother isn’t your fault. What happened to Eddie isn’t your fault. Whatever that sick bastard did to you or anyone isn’t your fault.”

Bill didn’t feel any less guilty, but it was nice to hear.

“Why d-did you co-come t-to the ho-house that day, Stan?” he asked.

“Looking for you, of course,” Stan answered. “Me and Richie searched all over town – oh! You’ll never guess what, Bill! We actually got help!”

Bill blinked. “You m-mean the po-police?”

“Nope!” Richie chimed. “You know Beverly Marsh, right? Well, we met up with her, that new kid Ben Hanscom, and the home-school kid Mike Hanlon one day and they decided to help us!”

Bill definitely knew Beverly, but he didn’t think he’d ever spoken to the other two. Still, these near strangers put their time and energy into trying to help him? “Really?”

“Yeah! They are super cool, Bill!” Richie said. “Actually, I was hoping we could all meet up when you finally get out of this place.”

“Just not at the library, because we keep getting kicked out of there,” Stan added.

The thought of making new friends was a good one. Bill wanted to thank these brave kids in person. And maybe scold them for putting themselves in grave danger. “I’d like th-that.”

“Oh, and the teachers decided to give you a break from homework on account of being nearly murdered and all that, but they did ask us to give you this study guide.” Stan handed him a thick stack on paper held together by a butterfly clip.

Okay. School was a good easy topic. Bill wanted to keep any tension or probing questions at bay for now. “What d-d-did I m-miss?”

Richie groaned.

 

Returning home with his parents was surreal. 

After Georgie disappeared, their house felt cold despite the summer heat. Now the air was thick with early winter chill. His dad turned up the thermostat when he noticed Bill shivering.

“Sorry, champ. We just...haven’t really noticed the temperature. Do you need more blankets or anything?”

His parents were glad to have him back, Bill could tell, but there was still something missing. Maybe Georgie’s absence was an obstacle they would never overcome. Maybe having both their sons disappear took a permanent toll on the Denbroughs. Maybe it was both.

Maybe they all just needed time. Time to heal. Time to get used to each other again.

Still, Bill wanted things to go back to normal.

His mother would smile when she saw him. She would come over to embrace him and kiss him and tell him she loved him. She would help him study and sit with him when the police came for follow up questions. He would sit with her when she played sad tunes on her piano and cooked dinner. (He would offer to help but the memories of slicing child meat were too fresh.)

His dad would invite Bill to sit with him in the garage when he worked on things. He would bring home comics and rented movies and sweets for the family to share. He would talk about his day at work and ruffle Bill’s hair.

Through it all, Bill could still feel a sort of wall between them. But, hey , hadn’t it always been that way? Even before this whole mess started, the Denbrough parents were kind and giving, but not especially attentive or even warm at times. Yes, there was always some sort of distance between Zack and Sharon and their sons.

Perhaps this was the best Bill could ever hope for.

 

Georgie’s door was locked. Bill wondered if his parents ever noticed the missing toys.

 

The thing was, Bill didn’t feel safe in his home anymore. How could he, when he knew Gray was still out there? Over two months had passed since he escaped the mad man’s clutches and there was still no word on his whereabouts. 

He knew how easily Gray could break into homes and snatch children. The man was slippery as an eel. Who was to say that he wouldn’t come back to get his final revenge on Bill?

Bill hoped Gray was far away from Maine. He hoped the man succumbed to his injuries and was lying dead in a ditch. He hoped some clown hating vigilante pushed him off a cliff.

Every strange noise would raise his blood pressure. Bill was sure every shadow in the corner of his eye was Bobby waiting to strike. His windows were bolted shut at all times. He took a knife from the kitchen to hide under his pillow. He checked under his bed and in the closet every night for any sign of the maniac.

Bill was trying to relax, he really was. The police still patrolled around his street, just in case. Gray’s picture was plastered on TVs and fliers all around the country. Parents were told to watch out for any clowns named Pennywise.

Sometimes, Bill would sit up in bed, flashlight in one hand and knife in the other. Those nights, Bill would almost hope for Gray to make an appearance so Bill could finish the bastard off and rid himself of this terrible, awful worry forever. He often wondered if he made the right choice in showing the man mercy. He doubted Gray would ever appreciate the gesture.

Bill slept best when he was sprawled on the couch and in the presence of at least one parent. He’d never seen Gray attack someone as old as them before. Some childish part of him liked to believe the man liked to stay away from adults.

He still looked over his shoulder constantly. He couldn’t stomach eating beef or pork. The family that previously loved bacon and burgers now lived off of fish and salads and fruit and cheesy pasta. His parents. Said it was healthier to cut back on red and white meat. But every time Bill flinched away from the familiar sights and smells of the particular foods, it was a reminder of what he had went through. Those times, his mother would present him with a decadent dessert and he would feel better for a few moments. And if he later threw everything he’d eaten that day up because the memories made him feel sick, well, that was his business.

 

His nightmares were full of clown laughter and the smell of frying meat.

 

Bill would start school again in September. His scores on his make-up tests were high enough that he wouldn’t be held back a grade. 

This summer, he was determined that he would have some fun. He had spent the past few months in extensive therapy. God, it did help, but he was afraid nothing would ever wash away the taint Gray left on his life. Bill wanted to try and fix that.

Having a larger friend group made him feel more secure. Bev, Ben, and Mike were wonderful people and Bill was very glad to have met him. They fit right into the circle he, Richie, and Stan made over the years.

(It was easier to try and just forget Eddie some days. The following nights would be filled with guilty thoughts and tears. But Eddie was gone like Georgie was gone and there was nothing Bill could do.)

They had grown close over the spring, and now that school was out and their parents were convinced there was no longer a killer in town, they let their children loose.

Bill’s parents understood that he needed as much normalcy as he could. He had a strict curfew to follow now. He was to keep the expensive switchblade his father gave him on his person at all times. Easy rules to follow. He was still paranoid if he stayed out in the open too long. The weapon was a comforting presence in his pocket. It also reminded him that they cared about him, and weren’t letting him out of the house because they were indifferent about what happened to him.

They had been meeting in either Bill’s or Richie’s or Ben’s homes to avoid the harsh winter air. Today, they were going to meet at the ice cream shop and then head toward the Barrens. It was still one of Bill’s favorite spots where he could just be a kid and try to forget for awhile. (Well, as long as he stayed away from the sewer opening.)

Bill rode Silver down the streets faster than he ever had before. This was the feeling of freedom he missed. The sun was warm and the breeze was wonderful against his skin. He let out an excited whoop as he headed toward his friends and stayed very, very far away from Neibolt Street.


End file.
